Chapter 4 - The Wrath of Evelyn
When Richard pulled back into the circular driveway of the Greenwich estate, the sun had dipped below the tree line, casting long, eerie shadows across the manicured lawn. The remaining guests—a few close family friends and cousins—had already departed, leaving only Evelyn, Grant, and Madison sitting on the patio sipping scotch under the warm glow of string lights.
Richard walked through the gate, his shoulders slumped, his face pale and drawn.
Evelyn took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes narrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. “Well? Where is she? Did you bring her back, or do I need to send a driver to pick her up from whatever boutique hotel she’s pouting in?”
Richard didn't answer right away. He dropped into an empty wrought-iron chair, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.
Madison rolled her eyes, leaning back against the cushions of the outdoor sofa. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me he’s actually entertaining this little drama. She’s just throwing a fit because she can’t handle a little family banter. She’s always been so uptight, Dad.”
“Shut up, Madison,” Richard said quietly.
Madison blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“I said, shut up!” Richard snapped, raising his head, his eyes bloodshot and furious.
Evelyn slammed her crystal glass down onto the glass-top table, the sharp clack making everyone jump. “Control your tone, Richard. You do not speak to your daughter that way in my presence, especially not over some hired-help-turned-wife who couldn't take a simple joke.”
“She’s not hired help, Mom!” Richard yelled, standing up so fast his chair screeched against the stone patio. “She’s gone! She packed her clothes, she left her ring, and she’s shutting down the company!”
Grant frowned, leaning forward. “What are you talking about? Shutting down what company? Hale Engineering is a multi-million-dollar corporation. How does a quiet, mousy woman who bakes sourdough bread shut down a corporation?”
“Because she owns the IP, Grant!” Richard shouted, pacing back and forth across the patio. “Every single structural blueprint, every municipal permit algorithm, every single core patent that keeps our doors open—it’s all registered in her name! Arthur Pendelton just confirmed it. If she files her revocation papers on Monday morning, the city will pull our operating license, and we’ll be sued into bankruptcy by every developer we’re currently contracted with!”
The patio went dead silent.
Even Madison sat up straight, the smug expression vanishing from her face as the gravity of her father’s words finally began to sink in.
Evelyn, however, remained seated. Her face had gone chalk-white, but her posture was as rigid as ever. She stood up slowly, her eyes burning with cold fury.
“You are telling me,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper, “that you allowed a woman of... common extraction... to hold absolute legal and financial leverage over the family empire?”
“You told me to put the assets in her name for tax shielding!” Richard fired back, desperation overriding his fear of his mother. “You said it would protect our family holdings if anything happened! It was your idea, Mom!”
“My idea was to protect the company from creditors, Richard, not to hand the keys of the kingdom to a petulant nobody who can't even take a lighthearted joke from a college student!” Evelyn’s voice rose, vibrating with rage. She turned her icy glare toward her granddaughter. “And you. Look what your little performance has cost us.”
Madison crossed her arms defensively, her lower lip trembling slightly. “It was just a joke! Grandma, you always said she didn’t belong here! You’re the one who told everyone she was just a placeholder!”
“There is a difference between putting someone in their place and destroying our financial survival, you foolish girl!” Evelyn snapped.
She turned back to Richard. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Her phone is off. She bought a plane ticket, but I don’t know where she went.”
“Find her,” Evelyn commanded, her voice steel. “Call her contacts, check her credit card statements, dispatch a private investigator if you have to. You will track her down, you will apologize, and you will sign whatever papers are necessary to secure our assets. I will not have the Hale name dragged through bankruptcy court by a woman who doesn't even know how to hold a fork properly at a formal dinner.”
May you like
Richard looked at his mother, realizing for the first time that she didn't care about him, or his marriage, or the emotional toll any of this had taken. She only cared about the name on the gate and the money in the bank.
And out there somewhere, flying north into the Maine night, I was already completely out of their reach.
