Chapter 7 – THE SHATTERED GLASS AND THE TRUTH
Daniel looked at the broken glass in my hand. He looked at Claire’s phone.
He was out of plays. The visionary had finally run out of runway.
Slowly, he walked backward, reached behind him, and turned the lock.
The doors flew open. Natalie burst in, dripping wet, her gold gala gown ruined by the Chicago rain. Behind her stood two uniformed Chicago police officers.
Daniel dropped the lighter. It clattered against the hardwood.
“Daniel Mercer?” the older officer asked.
“Yes?” Daniel’s voice was barely a whisper.
“We have a warrant to seize your passport and freeze all travel, pending a federal investigation into wire fraud and corporate embezzlement.”
Daniel turned slowly to Natalie. “You did this.”
“You locked me out of the accounts,” Natalie said, her chest heaving. “But you forgot that as the registered owner of Mercer Holdings, my signature is required for international wire transfers over five million dollars. The bank flagged your Zurich transfer. I just confirmed it was fraudulent.”
Daniel’s shoulders slumped. The illusion shattered completely. He wasn’t a giant of the industry. He was just a thief who got caught.
The officers moved in, escorting Daniel out of the library. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t look at Claire. He just kept his eyes on the floor.
When the front door closed, the house fell deathly silent.
Natalie stood near the doorway, shivering. She looked at me, then at the broken glass in my hand.
Slowly, she unclasped the turquoise bracelet from her wrist and placed it on the edge of a bookshelf.
“It belongs to your family,” she said quietly. “He told me he bought it in an antique shop in Paris. I’m sorry.”
I lowered the broken crystal stem. I looked at the woman who had been paraded as my husband’s mistress, who was actually his pawn, his flesh and blood that he was willing to discard.
“You don’t have to leave in the rain,” I told her. “I’ll call you a cab.”
Natalie nodded once, tears finally spilling over her eyelashes.
I turned to Claire. She had lowered her phone. She looked so small in the massive library, yet she had been the strongest person in the room.
I dropped the glass, walked over, and pulled her into my arms.
“It’s over,” I whispered into her hair. “We’re safe.”
“Are we poor now?” she mumbled against my shoulder.
I pulled back and smiled. I picked up the forged pre-nup and the burnt receipt with the original layout.
“No, sweetie,” I said. “We’re just getting started.”
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