Chapter 3 – The Empire They Thought They Owned
The next morning, Preston appeared outside my apartment.
He looked exhausted.
His expensive polo shirt was wrinkled.
His eyes were bloodshot.
He hadn't shaved.
He rang the lobby buzzer seventeen times.
I never answered.
Finally, the concierge called upstairs.
"Ms. Bennett?"
"Your husband says it's an emergency."
"No."
"Tell him he doesn't live here."
Five minutes later, security escorted him off the property.
He screamed my name loud enough for pedestrians to stop walking.
"MAYA!"
"You can't do this!"
The revolving doors closed behind him.
Nobody reopened them.
An hour later my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Maya."
Richard.
My father-in-law.
His voice sounded older than yesterday.
"I'm sorry."
I remained silent.
"He shouldn't have hit you."
"No."
"He shouldn't have."
Another pause.
"I tried to stop Eleanor."
"No, Richard."
"You watched."
The silence that followed said everything.
Cowardice rarely sounded dramatic.
Usually...
It sounded exactly like this.
Meanwhile, Morgan discovered that her luxury SUV had disappeared.
It wasn't stolen.
It had been repossessed.
The payments had always been made through Preston's account.
An account funded almost entirely by my credit line.
She called him screaming.
"What am I supposed to drive?"
Preston finally exploded.
"Figure it out yourself!"
It was the first time anyone in that family had spoken to Morgan the way she'd spoken to everyone else.
She burst into tears.
Nobody comforted her.
By noon, Bennett Healthcare's legal department had finished its investigation.
The consulting contract Preston bragged about?
It had never been permanent.
It had been a probationary agreement personally approved because he was engaged to me.
Now...
It no longer existed.
His employee badge stopped working.
His company email disappeared.
His business phone shut off.
One marriage.
One slap.
One morning.
Everything he'd spent years pretending to build...
Vanished.
At sunset, Preston finally sent one last message.
I made a mistake.
Please come home.
We can fix this.
I stared at the screen.
Then typed exactly eleven words.
"There was never a home."
"Only a stage where you played a good man."
May you like
Then I blocked his number.
Forever.
