Chapter 2 - The Departure
The hum of the car engine was the only sound filling the cabin as we pulled out of the driveway. Emma sat in the back seat, her small fingers lightly touching the red mark still visible on her cheek. Lily, only six, sensed the heavy, suffocating atmosphere and stayed quiet, clutching a stuffed rabbit to her chest.
“Mom,” Emma whispered, her voice cracking. “Did I do something wrong?”
My heart fractured into a thousand jagged pieces, but I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.
“No, sweetheart,” I said, forcing as much steady warmth into my voice as I could manage. “You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.”
“Why did Grandma do that?”
“Because Grandma is a miserable, cruel person who has spent her whole life measuring people by how much power they hold,” I thought, but I answered carefully. “Grandma made a terrible mistake, and she and Daddy are going to learn that actions have consequences. Big ones.”
We didn't go back to the house. Instead, I drove straight to the extended-stay suite at the downtown corporate lodge—a place I had quietly booked and paid for a week prior using a separate bank account. An account Mark didn’t even know existed.
Inside the suite, I helped the girls wash their faces and settled them onto the queen beds with cartoons playing softly on the television. Once they were distracted, I walked over to the desk, pulled out my laptop, and opened an encrypted folder.
My phone buzzed. It was Mark.
Where are you? Mom is throwing a fit because you left without cleaning up the kitchen. Get back here before you make things worse.
I stared at the screen, a cold, bitter smile touching my lips. Make things worse? Mark had no idea what the bottom looked like yet, but we were about to plummet straight through it.
I tapped out a short reply: We aren't coming back tonight.
His reply came instantly: Stop being dramatic. You’re embarrassing me in front of my parents. Bring the girls back right now or don't bother coming home at all.
“Don't bother coming home at all,” I whispered to the empty room.
Oh, Mark. That house was never your home to begin with. And very soon, you won't even be allowed inside it.
I picked up my phone and dialed my attorney, Jonathan Vance. It was late, but Jonathan answered on the second ring.
“Victoria,” he said, his deep voice calm and professional. “Did it happen?”
“It happened, Jonathan,” I replied, my voice chillingly steady. “She hit my daughter. And Mark looked right at it and agreed with her.”
May you like
There was a brief pause on the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Do you want to proceed with full execution of the asset freeze and the property repossession?”
“Execute everything,” I said, looking out the hotel window at the sparkling city skyline. “Let’s bring the hammer down.”
