Chapter 4 - The Price of a Tooth
The ballroom was no longer a place of celebration;
it was a courtroom.
The guests pulled away from Spencer and Cassandra as if they were infected with the plague.
Gwen stood at the center of it all,
the red of her dress echoing the blood that had been on Hazel’s mouth.
"You thought I was nothing,"
Gwen said,
her voice echoing in the stillness.
"You thought my silence was a sign of weakness."
"But I was just waiting for you to prove that you didn't deserve a single second of my daughter's life."
Two men in uniform entered the room,
followed by a woman in a sharp gray suit.
"Mr. Albright,"
the woman said,
showing her badge.
"I am with the District Attorney’s office."
"We have a warrant for your arrest for felony child endangerment,"
"corporate embezzlement,"
"and tax evasion."
Spencer’s knees buckled.
"No... no,
this is Gwen's fault!
She set me up!"
"You set yourself up,
Spencer,"
Gwen replied,
stepping closer.
"I just provided the light for people to see what you were doing in the dark."
The officers moved in,
grabbing Spencer’s arms and pulling him toward the door.
Cassandra tried to slip away through the crowd,
but Gwen’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
"Not so fast,"
Gwen whispered.
"You hit my daughter ten times."
"You knocked out two of her teeth."
"I’m a civilized woman,"
"so I won't hit you back."
"But I have filed a civil suit for assault and battery."
"I've also contacted the department of immigration,"
"regarding the discrepancies in your visa application."
Cassandra’s face went from pale to ghostly white.
"You... you can't do that!"
"I can do anything I want,"
Gwen said,
letting go of her wrist with a look of pure loathing.
"I am a Crawford."
"And you are a memory."
Security guards took Cassandra’s arms,
leading her out as she began to scream and cry,
her designer heels dragging on the carpet.
The crowd watched in a mixture of awe and terror.
They had seen the fall of a house in less than ten minutes.
Arthur Crawford walked over to Gwen,
putting a protective arm around her shoulder.
"Are you satisfied,
my girl?"
he asked softly.
Gwen looked at the doors where her husband had been dragged out.
She thought about the six years of silence.
She thought about the insults she had endured.
But mostly,
she thought about Hazel,
sleeping safely in the Crawford mansion,
guarded by twenty of the world's best security agents.
"Not yet,
Father."
"There’s still one more Albright left."
Gwen walked over to where Patricia Albright was being revived by a waiter.
The older woman looked up,
her eyes filled with a desperate,
crawling fear.
"Gwenyth... please,"
Patricia wheezed.
"I’m an old woman... I have nowhere to go."
"You have the Albright family estate in Pennsylvania,"
Gwen said,
her voice devoid of any mercy.
"Oh wait,"
"I forgot."
"That property was used as collateral for Spencer's last loan."
"The one I just bought."
"You have twenty-four hours to vacate the mansion in Bel Air."
"Pack your Chanel,
Patricia."
"I hear the local motels are very... character-building."
Gwen turned her back on her mother-in-law,
leaving her sobbing on the floor.
She walked back to the center of the ballroom,
picked up a fresh glass of champagne,
and looked at the elite of society.
"The party continues!"
she announced.
"But from now on,"
"the Crawford name is the only one that matters."
The music started up again,
a triumphant,
soaring melody.
May you like
Gwen Crawford had walked into the room as a victim.
She was leaving it as a legend.
