Chapter 3 - The Liquidation of Loyalty
The ballroom had transformed from an engagement party to a courtroom.
The guests were no longer onlookers;
they were witnesses to the bankruptcy of the Allen family soul.
Grant Ellison was the first to try and regain control.
He was a man who believed that every problem had a price.
“Kimberly,
let’s be reasonable,”
he said,
stepping toward me with his hands up.
“This is a family matter.”
“We can settle this in the morning.”
“There is no morning for us, Grant,”
I replied.
“By the time the sun comes up,
I will have filed for a restraining order.”
“And my lawyers will have served you with a formal demand for repayment.”
My mother was weeping now,
real tears that smudged her mascara.
“How could you do this to your sister?”
she wailed.
“In front of all these people?”
“The same way she told me my fiancé didn't love me in front of all these people,”
I said.
I looked at Vanessa.
She was clutching the back of her chair,
her knuckles white.
“You think you’re so perfect, Kim,”
Vanessa spat.
“Always the martyr.”
“Always the one saving everyone.”
“You loved it.”
“You loved being the one we needed.”
The words stung because they carried a grain of truth.
I had loved being needed.
I had mistaken being utilized for being loved.
“Maybe I did,”
I admitted.
“But that contract ended tonight.”
I turned back to Nathan.
He was still standing in the center of the room,
looking like a man who had survived a car wreck.
“And you,”
I said.
The room went quiet again.
“You were going to marry me to save a heating and air shop.”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
“I was going to marry you because I didn't know how to tell you the truth.”
“I was a coward, Kim.”
“I let them put a price on me.”
“But when I saw that contract... when I realized they wanted to steal your life’s work...”
“I couldn't do it.”
“I told Grant this afternoon that I wouldn't go through with it.”
Grant laughed,
a sharp,
ugly sound.
“That’s not what you said,
Coleman.”
“You said you needed more time.”
“I said I wouldn't let you touch her company!”
Nathan shouted.
“And you told me that if I didn't,
you’d have the sheriff at my dad’s door by Monday.”
Nathan looked at me,
his eyes pleading.
“I don't expect you to forgive me.”
“I don't even expect you to look at me again.”
“But don't let them take Cedar Ridge.”
I looked at the folder in my hands.
There was one more document inside.
The one I hadn't shown yet.
The third document was a legal notification I had prepared with a private investigator.
It was a summary of Ellison Capital Partners' recent investments.
It turns out,
Grant had been using my family's "influence" to secure loans for himself.
Loans he had guaranteed using my parents’ house as collateral.
I looked at my father.
“Did you know, Dad?”
“Did you know that Grant put a lien on the house to fund his new office in Cincinnati?”
My father’s face went gray.
He looked at Grant.
“Grant?
What is she talking about?”
Grant didn't look at him.
He was looking at me with pure,
unadulterated hatred.
“It was a temporary arrangement,
Richard,”
Grant said.
“The returns were guaranteed.”
“Nothing is guaranteed when you’re a thief, Grant,”
I said.
I turned to the room.
“I think the party is over.”
“I’ve called for the cars.”
“Please,
everyone,
take your favors and go.”
“There’s nothing left to celebrate.”
The guests didn't need to be told twice.
They moved toward the exit in a hurried,
uncomfortable mass.
They whispered behind their hands,
their eyes darting back to the head table.
Within ten minutes,
the only people left were the Allens,
the Ellisons,
and Nathan.
And the white lilies,
filling the room with their funeral scent.
“Now,”
I said,
May you like
sitting down at the empty table.
“Let’s talk about who is leaving this house tonight.”
