Chapter 4 - The Untangling of the Web
The chaos in the Grand Mayfield ballroom took over two hours to clear. By the time the police escorted Linda and Thomas out in handcuffs—their faces hidden behind designer jackets while flashing cameras blinded them—the room was completely empty except for Arthur Pendelton, Julian Vance, Noah, and me.
Noah was sitting quietly in one of the plush velvet armchairs that had previously been reserved for the bride and groom. He was holding a small plate of finger sandwiches Arthur had ordered for him, nibbling cautiously on a cucumber sandwich while swinging his legs, looking around with wide, curious eyes.
“Are we still poor, Mom?” Noah asked softly, looking up at me as I knelt beside his chair.
My heart ached, a sharp pang of guilt hitting my chest. I smoothed down his rumpled white shirt—the one Linda had forced him to wear. “No, sweetie,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. “We’re going to be okay. Better than okay.”
Arthur Pendelton walked over, holding a thick stack of documents tied with a red ribbon. He handed them to me with a solemn nod. “These are the preliminary asset declarations, Mrs. Carter. Though you lived under an assumed name after your husband’s passing, our biometric tracking systems finally synced up with the national school registry database this afternoon. That’s how we located you.”
“My husband... David,” I murmured, the name feeling heavy on my tongue. “He always told me his family was wealthy, but his mother convinced me they had disowned him when we married. She said the Carter name wanted nothing to do with us.”
“A lie,” Julian Vance said, leaning against a nearby marble pillar with his arms crossed. “Linda Harper forged correspondence and intercepted your husband’s medical and financial records after his fatal car accident six years ago. She wanted the entire estate funneled through her branch of the family via legal loopholes. She thought she had successfully buried you both.”
“Well, she dug her own grave instead,” Arthur replied flatly. He turned his attention back to Noah, his expression softening considerably. “Young master Carter is the sole legal beneficiary of Henry Carter’s multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, Carter Global. This hotel, three shipping ports on the eastern seaboard, dozens of commercial real estate holdings, and a trust fund large enough to buy half this city are now under your guardianship until he turns eighteen.”
I stared at the papers in my hand. The numbers swimming before my eyes were staggering—zeros upon zeros, figures I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. For six years, I had scrubbed floors, worked double shifts at a diner, and skipped meals just to keep a roof over Noah’s head while Linda lived in luxury off the very fortune that rightfully belonged to my son.
“What happens to the wedding?” I asked, glancing toward the desolate, flower-strewn dance floor where Jessica’s expensive ice sculpture was slowly melting into a puddle.
“Jessica’s wedding is the least of their worries,” Julian scoffed, pushing off the pillar. “Without Linda’s financial backing and the illegal shell companies she used to siphon funds from the Carter trust, Thomas and Jessica are entirely bankrupt. Every wedding vendor, caterer, and designer is already canceling their contracts due to non-payment.”
Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a dozen missed calls and frantic text messages from my former boss at the diner where I worked as a dishwasher. Ignoring them, I slid the phone back into my pocket. My old life was gone. The invisible cage of poverty and abuse that Linda Harper had built around us had shattered into a million pieces.
“Mrs. Carter,” Arthur said, extending his hand. “My car and security detail are waiting downstairs. We have a secure penthouse suite prepared for you at the Carter Tower downtown while we begin the formal transition of power. Would you and Noah like to leave now?”
May you like
I looked down at my son. Noah looked up at me, swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, and smiled. “Mom, can we get a dog now?”
I couldn’t help it—a laugh bubbled up from deep inside my chest, bright and free for the first time in six years. “You can get a whole pack of dogs, baby.”
