Chapter 8 - The Price of Treason
I stepped around my mahogany desk, holding the open folder in my hand.
"Let's review the current state of your lives," I said, reading from the legal documents inside.
"First, the Greenwich estate. The secondary mortgage guarantee was officially withdrawn yesterday at nine AM. The bank has already initiated default proceedings. You have thirty days to pay two point four million dollars in cash, or the property goes to public auction."
Richard’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His chest heaved as if he were having a heart attack.
"Second, Vanessa's apartment," I continued, turning a page. "The corporate lease was terminated this morning. Security will be at your apartment on Friday at noon to change the locks and remove your belongings. Furthermore, my legal team has filed a formal civil claim for one hundred and forty-two thousand dollars in unauthorized personal expenses charged to my firm. You will receive the summons by mail tomorrow."
"You... you're suing your own sister?" Vanessa sobbed, tears finally breaking through her heavy mascara, running down her cheeks in black streaks.
"You're not my sister," I said coldly. "Sisters don't attack pregnant women."
I turned to my mother. "Third, the family trust. There is no family trust, Eleanor. There never was. Every dollar you’ve spent for ten years came directly from my personal operating account. Effective as of five PM last Friday, that account is closed to you forever."
"Arthur... please..." Eleanor wept, reaching out a trembling, manicured hand to touch my sleeve. "We are your parents... we raised you... we gave you everything..."
"You gave me debt," I corrected her, brushing her hand off my arm as if she were a dusty cobweb. "You gave me embarrassment. And when I brought a good, kind, brilliant woman into this family, you treated her like a servant."
Richard stepped forward, his fists clenched, trying one last desperate attempt at paternal intimidation. "You can't do this, Arthur! I am your father! You owe us!"
"I owe you nothing," I leaned in close to Richard's face, staring into his bloodshot eyes. "I paid off your failed real estate debts in 2014. I paid off your tax liens in 2017. I paid for your country club, your cars, your clothes, your food, and your vanity. I have paid my debt to you a hundred times over. And last Friday night, you threw the receipt in my face."
I stepped back and nodded to Lev.
"Lev, escort these trespassers out of my building."
Lev stepped forward, flanked by two six-foot-four corporate security guards in dark suits. "This way, please," Lev said, his voice flat and unyielding.
"Arthur! You can't do this!" Richard roared as a guard took his elbow, forcing him around toward the door. "We have nothing! We'll lose the house! We'll be ruined!"
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"Then you had better start looking for a smaller house," I said, turning my back on them and walking toward the wide window overlooking the city. "And Dad? Try eating in the kitchen. I hear the caterers are very accommodating."
Vanessa began shrieking hysterically as the guards marched them out through the heavy glass double doors. Eleanor’s heartbroken sobs echoed down the hallway until the elevator doors finally clicked shut, plunging the floor back into blessed, absolute silence.
