Chapter 5 - THE CORNERED FOX
Two days after Grant’s arrest, the fallout was consuming every local business headline. Hayes & Vance Partner Arrested for Fraud, read the front page of the financial chronicle. Mercer Holdings Buyout Collapses Amid Espionage Scandal.
While Grant was sitting in a holding cell at the central precinct, unable to meet the high bail set by the magistrate, Paige Holloway was hiding in her luxury high-rise apartment on the waterfront—the very apartment Grant had been funding using our stolen joint accounts.
She hadn’t left the building in forty-eight hours. The lobby was surrounded by reporters, and her phone was buzzing relentlessly with calls from process servers, corporate investigators, and bank representatives threatening immediate eviction.
At two o'clock in the afternoon, the lock on Paige’s front door clicked.
She scrambled up from her sofa, holding a heavy glass vase like a weapon. “Who’s there? I called security!”
The door opened, and I walked into the apartment, accompanied by my mother’s head of security, a tall, imposing former federal agent named Marcus.
Paige froze, her hair unwashed, her makeup smeared, wearing a silk robe that was clearly bought with my family’s money.
“Evelyn,” Paige whispered, her hand trembling as she lowered the vase. “How did you get in here?”
“I own the building, Paige,” I said calmly, taking in the messy living room filled with half-packed suitcases and takeout containers. “Or rather, my family’s real estate trust acquired the deed to this penthouse complex three hours ago. Which means you are currently squatting on my property.”
Paige backed away toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. “I didn’t do anything illegal! Grant gave me that money! He told me he was getting a divorce! He lied to me!”
“You knew he was married,” I said, walking slowly into the room and sitting down on the edge of a pristine white armchair. “You knew I was pregnant. You willingly participated in a plot to publicly humiliate me and leverage a fake child to secure a financial payoff.”
“It’s not a fake child!” Paige screamed, her eyes wild with fear. “I am pregnant!”
“Yes, you are,” I agreed smoothly. “With Julian Mercer’s brother’s child—or perhaps another Mercer relative’s child. But not Grant’s. We ran the DNA comparison from the clinic records yesterday. Grant was sterile after his bout with mumps four years ago, Paige. Did he forget to mention that to you?”
Paige’s jaw dropped. The last bit of color drained from her face, leaving her looking hollow and fragile. “What… what did you say?”
“Grant couldn’t father children,” I stated clearly. “My pregnancy was achieved through a private, selective IVF process using a donor profile from a clinic in Switzerland—a process Grant signed off on two years ago because his pride couldn’t handle the public knowing he was infertile.”
Paige sank onto the couch, her hands covering her face as she broke into hysterical sobs. “He told me… he told me he was going to make me rich. He said if I created a scene at the shower, you’d be so disgusted you’d walk away and leave him with the estate.”
“Grant used you as a disposable tool, Paige,” I said, keeping my voice cold and steady. “And now he is going to prison for twenty years. But you have a choice right now.”
Paige looked up through her tears, her eyelashes matted. “What choice? I have no money! My lawyer dropped me this morning! The Mercers are suing me!”
I gestured to Marcus, who stepped forward and laid a legal envelope on the coffee table.
“Inside that envelope is a full statement detailing Grant’s attempts to coerce you into corporate espionage,” I said. “If you sign that affidavit, turn over all your text messages and raw audio recordings of Grant discussing the prenup scheme, my mother will ensure you are listed as a cooperating witness rather than a co-conspirator.”
Paige stared at the paper as if it were a lifeline floating in an ocean of fire. “And… and what happens to the apartment? To me?”
“You vacate this apartment by six o'clock tonight,” I replied sternly. “You take your clothes, you return to your hometown, and you raise your child far away from this city. If you ever return, or if you ever attempt to contact my family or the press again, my mother will personally see to it that every civil lawsuit filed against you is prosecuted to the maximum extent of the law.”
Paige didn’t hesitate. She lunged forward, grabbed the pen attached to the folder, and signed her name on the dotted line with shaking hands.
“I’m sorry,” Paige sobbed, handing the paper back to Marcus. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn.”
I stood up, adjusting my coat over my stomach. I looked down at her without an ounce of pity.
May you like
“Don’t apologize to me, Paige,” I said. “Apologize to the child you tried to use as a pawn.”
I turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving her alone in the wreckage of her ambition.
