Chapter 4 - THE FIRST CRACKS IN THE ARMOR
The hospital days bled into one another,
a blur of pain medication and legal strategy sessions.
Every afternoon,
I received updates on the outside world.
The news of the “Socialite Assault” had hit the local papers.
Daniel’s firm had issued a formal statement,
distancing themselves from him within forty-eight hours.
They had put him on unpaid leave,
citing a “violation of the morality clause.”
But that was only the tip of the iceberg.
I sat up in bed,
propped by pillows that didn't touch my raw back.
Lena walked in,
holding a tabloid magazine.
On the cover was a blurry photo of Vivian being led into the station in her silk gown.
“The public is eating them alive,”
Lena said,
tossing the magazine onto the foot of the bed.
“And I have even better news.”
She pulled out a printout from a private investigator I’d hired months ago.
“Daniel’s mistress is talking.”
I froze,
my hand hovering over a glass of water.
“Mistress?”
I asked,
though I wasn't surprised.
A man like Daniel couldn't exist without an audience for his lies.
“A paralegal at his firm,”
Lena said,
her voice full of disgust.
“He promised her he was going to leave you as soon as he ‘secured the trust funds.’”
“She’s terrified of being implicated in the fraud.”
“She’s ready to hand over every text message he ever sent her.”
I felt a strange sense of clarity.
Every time Daniel had stayed late at the office,
every time he had smelled of a perfume I didn't own,
the pieces finally clicked.
“Does she have proof of the document tampering?”
I asked.
“She has the original pages he cut out of the trust agreement,”
Lena confirmed.
“He kept them in a safe in her apartment.”
I leaned back,
closing my eyes.
He had been so careless.
He had been so arrogant that he thought a young girl’s loyalty was more secure than a legal vault.
“Call the District Attorney,”
I said.
“Tell them we have a new witness.”
“And tell them I want to speak to her personally.”
“I want her to see what he’s capable of doing to the women he ‘loves.’”
A few hours later,
the young woman,
Chloe,
was brought to my room.
She looked small,
trembling like a leaf in the wind.
When she saw my bandages,
she turned pale,
nearly collapsing into the chair.
“I didn't know,”
she whispered,
her eyes filling with tears.
“He told me you were the one who was abusive.”
“He said you were unstable and that he was just trying to protect the family fortune.”
I looked at her,
feeling no anger,
only a cold,
hollow pity.
“He says that to everyone,
Chloe.”
“He says it to the neighbors,
to the board members,
and clearly,
to you.”
I gestured to my back.
“This is his version of protection.”
“This is what happens when you no longer serve his purpose.”
She began to sob,
pulling a stack of papers from her bag.
“I don't want anything to do with him.”
“He’s a monster.”
She handed me the original pages of my father’s trust.
The ink was clear,
untainted by the forgeries Daniel had tried to pass off.
With these,
the ownership of the firm’s office building reverted back to me.
Daniel had spent millions of his firm’s money renovating a building he no longer owned.
“Thank you,
Chloe,”
I said.
“You’ve just given me the keys to his kingdom.”
“Now,
go to the police and tell them everything.”
“It’s the only way you’ll stay out of prison.”
She left,
and the room felt lighter.
I looked at the pages in my hand.
The Hales thought they were the architects of my misery.
But they had built their house on a foundation of stolen sand.
The tide was coming in,
and I was the one who controlled the moon.
May you like
The first cracks had appeared in their armor,
and I was ready to drive the sword home.
