Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Grass
While Ethan was cooling his heels in a holding cell awaiting arraignment, Chloe decided to make her desperate move.
She must have realized that sinking ship Ethan was no longer a viable ticket to wealth. With her sugar daddy locked up and facing ten to fifteen years in federal and state prison for aggravated assault and financial coercion, Chloe needed a contingency plan.
That plan involved crawling back to our family.
I was sitting at the massive oak dining table in my newly reclaimed estate, reviewing forensic accounting reports with my lead attorney, when the front doorbell chimed.
Through the security monitor, I saw Chloe standing on the porch. She had ditched Ethan’s favorite black dress for a demure, innocent white sundress, her hair styled in soft waves. She looked like an angel seeking shelter from a storm.
"Let her in," I instructed the estate manager through the intercom. "Let’s see what the rat has to say for herself."
Moments later, Chloe pushed open the study doors, her eyes instantly welling up with dramatic, practiced tears.
"Emma!" she sobbed, rushing forward with her arms outstretched as if she wanted to embrace me. "Oh, thank God you’re safe! I’ve been beside myself with worry ever since that horrible day!"
I didn't move an inch. I simply raised one hand, freezing her in her tracks a few feet away from my chair.
"Save the waterworks, Chloe," I said, my voice cutting through her performance like a scalpel. "The Oscar-winning acting routine doesn't work when everyone knows you were standing right beside Victoria, watching your lover cave my face in with a brick."
Chloe’s tearful expression flickered for a fraction of a second before hardening into something cold and resentful. She dropped her arms, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"You’re being so cold, Emma," Chloe hissed, her voice losing its sweet facade. "We’re sisters! We share the same blood! Ethan manipulated me. He told me you were emotionally unstable, that you were trying to ruin his career, and that the divorce was already finalized!"
"Really? Is that why you were wearing his favorite dress and helping Victoria pack up my private jewelry box while I was bleeding on the front lawn?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk, locking eyes with her. "Chloe, forensic accountants are already combing through your bank accounts. We know about the wire transfers Ethan made from the corporate subsidiary into your personal checking account over the last eight months. That’s nearly four hundred thousand dollars in corporate embezzlement."
Chloe’s face turned the color of ash. "That... that was a consulting fee for marketing services!"
"For marketing services that generated zero campaigns, zero traffic, and zero contracts?" I raised an eyebrow, picking up a printed bank statement. "Conspiracy to commit fraud and receiving stolen property carry a very stiff prison sentence in this state. Almost as stiff as accessory to aggravated assault."
"You wouldn't put your own sister in prison," Chloe whispered, her voice trembling with genuine terror now.
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"Watch me," I replied quietly. "You thought you could step into my shoes, take my husband, inherit my property, and push me out of my own life. But you underestimated one crucial thing, Chloe: I am not the naive girl who let you borrow her clothes in high school anymore. I am Margaret Sterling’s granddaughter."
Chloe stared at me, realizing the terrifying magnitude of her mistake. Without another word, she turned around and ran out of the room, slamming the front door behind her.
