Chapter 4 - The Arrival of the Guests
At precisely seven o'clock, the doorbell chimed.
The first to arrive were the junior partners and their wives, stepping into the grand foyer in a flurry of mink coats, loud laughter, and heavy perfume. Derek stood near the front door like a monarch receiving subjects, shaking hands warmly, laughing loudly at their mediocre jokes, and accepting expensive bottles of scotch with practiced humility.
"Monica!" gasped Victoria, the wife of one of the junior partners, as she saw my silk sling. "Oh my goodness, what happened to your arm?"
Before I could speak, Derek smoothly slid his arm around my waist, his fingers digging firmly into my side warningly.
"Tragic accident, Victoria," Derek said, his voice dripping with dramatic sympathy. "She slipped on some black ice on the back patio last night while checking the weather latch. I tried to catch her—nearly went down myself—but she hit the wooden step. I spent all night in the ER with her."
"Oh, Derek, you are such a devoted husband!" Victoria cooed, clutching her hands to her chest. "And you're still cooking dinner, Monica? You must be an absolute saint!"
"I do what is expected of me, Victoria," I said, looking straight into Derek’s smiling face.
At seven-twenty, the heavy front door opened again, and Michael Stanton walked in alongside his young, glamorous wife, Julianna.
Michael was sixty-two, with silver hair, a heavy brow, and the cold, terrifying eyes of a man who owned half the commercial real estate in the tri-state area. Julianna walked half a step behind him, wearing a tight platinum-sequined gown that showed off her immaculate figure.
"Derek, happy birthday, my boy!" Michael boomed, extending a thick hand. "Forty years old. That's when the real work begins."
"Thank you, Michael," Derek beamed, practically glowing under the managing partner's presence. "It means the world to me that you and Julianna made it tonight."
Julianna offered a faint, strained smile, her eyes darting nervously toward Derek for a fraction of a second before landing on me. I caught the subtle interaction—the slight tightening of her jaw, the way Derek's fingers twitched at his side.
"Monica," Julianna said softly, stepping forward. "Look at your arm... that looks terribly painful."
"It was agonizing at first, Julianna," I said clearly, ensuring my voice carried across the echoing foyer. "The bone snapped completely in half when I hit the hard surface. But the doctor said the worst part is over now. Once you face the damage, the healing happens remarkably fast."
Julianna flushed slightly, shifting her stance under my steady gaze.
"Well, let's get some drinks in these people!" Derek announced loudly, clapping his hands together to break the rising tension. "Monica, go check on the first course. Michael, come into the library—I have a twenty-five-year-old Japanese whiskey I’ve been saving specifically for you."
As the crowd moved toward the living room, I stepped back into the kitchen. My heart was beating with a steady, rhythmic rhythm.
I pulled my phone out of my silk pocket. One new text message was sitting on the screen from my forensic accountant:
May you like
Files verified. Federal authorities and state regulators notified. Copies delivered to Stanton’s personal legal team five minutes ago. Good luck, Monica.
I smiled, locked the screen, and picked up the silver tray of appetizers.
