Chapter 8 - The House of Cards Collapses
Austin looked at me,
his eyes narrowing into a predatory glint.
"You think you’re so smart,
Elena,"
he sneered,
stepping toward me.
"You’re just a paycheck in a fancy suit."
"Give me the checkbook,
or things are going to get ugly."
Keaton didn't step in front of me,
he didn't defend me.
He stayed in the shadow of the hallway,
watching his brother threaten his wife.
I didn't flinch.
I am the daughter of a woman who worked three jobs to keep me in school.
I am a woman who worked her way to the top of a male-dominated industry.
I am not afraid of a man who gambles away his mother’s pride.
"The checkbook is empty,
Austin,"
I said,
holding his gaze.
"I’ve moved every cent of my promotion into a protected trust you can't touch."
"And the joint account has been frozen due to the fraud report."
The sound of sirens began to wail in the distance,
growing louder with every second.
Bernice began to pack her knitting bag with trembling fingers.
"We have to go,
Keaton!"
she urged.
"If the police come,
they’ll see the loan papers."
"It’s too late,
Bernice,"
I said,
pointing to the hallway.
"The building security is already holding the elevators."
Austin lunged for my purse on the counter,
but I was faster.
I grabbed the heavy blue folder and swung it,
the edge of the accordion file catching him across the bridge of his nose.
He fell back,
howling,
as the front door was kicked open by two uniformed officers.
"Nobody move!"
one shouted,
his hand on his holster.
I stepped toward them,
holding the forged documents out like a holy relic.
"I am Elena Miller,"
I said,
my voice clear and unshakable.
"I called about the fraud."
"These three people are involved in a conspiracy to steal my property and forge my legal identity."
I watched as the handcuffs clicked into place around Austin’s wrists.
Then Keaton’s.
Bernice sat on the sofa,
sobbing,
as they read them their rights.
Keaton looked at me,
his eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and disbelief.
"How could you do this to your family,
Elena?"
he spat.
"You were never my family,
Keaton,"
I said,
May you like
the words feeling like a weight lifting from my chest.
"You were just a debt I finally decided to stop paying."
