Chapter 4 - The Voice They Never Expected to HearBefore Randy could even bend down to pick up the scattered papers, a deep, resonant voice echoed from the shadowed archway of the kitchen.
“I wouldn't touch those if I were you, son.”
Randy and Eden spun around in absolute terror.
Stepping out from the kitchen was Arthur Vance. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket; his sleeves were rolled up, revealing thick forearms crossed casually over his chest. His silver hair and piercing gray eyes commanded the room with an authority that made Eden instinctively shrink backward.
“Arthur... Arthur Vance?” Eden gasped, her voice cracking in disbelief. “What... what are you doing in my son’s house?”
“Your son’s house?” My father repeated the phrase, letting out a short, cold laugh that sounded like cracking ice. “Let’s clarify a few things right out of the gate, Mrs. Parker. This property was purchased by my daughter three years before Randy managed to charm his way into her life. Her name is on the deed. Her inheritance paid the down payment. Your son couldn't afford the property taxes on this place if he worked three lifetimes.”
Randy staggered backward until his spine hit the living room wall. Sweat beaded heavily on his forehead. “Arthur... sir... listen, it was a misunderstanding. It was a domestic dispute, families argue—we were just stressed about finances—!”
“Domestic dispute?” My father’s voice rose, cutting through the room like a razor blade. He took two slow, deliberate steps forward. “You put your hands on my daughter. You broke her rib. You choked her until she couldn't breathe. And then you had the absolute audacity to tell her to cover up her bruises with makeup so you could parade her in front of your mother like a prized trophy.”
“That’s—that’s a lie!” Randy shrieked, panic pitching his voice into a frantic squeak. “Joanna is unstable! She’s hysterical! She fell down the stairs!”
“Is that what you told the cloud server when it recorded you screaming threats at her?” my father asked calmly.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek silver flash drive, holding it up between two fingers.
“Every threat you’ve made over the last six months,” my father continued, his eyes locking onto Randy with unblinking fury. “Every fraudulent loan application you submitted using her social security number. Every text message exchange between you and your mother plotting how to declare her mentally incompetent so you could seize her assets. It’s all right here. Backed up on federal servers. Copies are currently sitting on the desk of the District Attorney and your company’s chief ethics officer.”
Eden’s face turned the color of curdled milk. She grabbed Randy’s arm, her fingernails digging deep into his suit jacket. “Randy... what did you do? What did you sign your name to?!”
“Nothing! Mom, he’s bluffing! He’s just protecting his dramatic daughter!” Randy yelled, though his voice shook so violently he sounded like a terrified child.
“Am I?”
A soft click sounded from the doorway behind them.
I stepped into the living room. I had changed into a sharp, tailored black pantsuit that hid the worst of my physical injuries, though my split lip was still visible. My hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and my posture was completely unyielding.
I looked straight into Randy’s horrified, dilated eyes.
“You wanted my paycheck, Randy,” I said quietly, my voice steady and cold. “You wanted my townhouse. And you thought that by beating me into silence, you could inherit everything I worked for.”
I held up my phone, tapping the screen to display a live bank transfer confirmation.
“As of eleven o'clock this morning, my corporate legal team has frozen every joint account, revoked your access to my credit lines, and filed an emergency injunction against your corporate expense accounts. As of right now, you are legally locked out of every financial resource you stole or manipulated.”
May you like
Randy stared at me as if I were a ghost. “Joanna... please. We’re married. We can talk about this. Don’t do this to us—”
“There is no us,” I replied, turning my back on him as federal marshals in uniform calmly stepped through the front door, holding a pair of heavy steel handcuffs.
Related Stories
