Chapter 5 - Gathering the Arsenal
Eleanor invited us to her sprawling, private estate two towns over. It turned out, Nick’s grandmother wasn't just surviving; she was a quiet, formidable force in the real estate world. When we arrived, she was waiting for us in a grand library, a massive mahogany table covered in disorganized financial ledgers and legal documents.
"Sit down, children," Eleanor commanded, pouring us tea. "If Martha wants a war of reputation, we are going to give her a nuclear winter."
Eleanor explained that while Martha had managed to hide her embezzlement fifteen years ago, a leopard rarely changes its spots. "Martha has no real wealth of her own," Eleanor stated. "Her late husband, Nick’s father, left a comfortable life insurance policy, but Martha blew through that a decade ago trying to keep up with Beatrice Harrington. So, how has she been affording the designer bags, the luxury cars, the country club fees?"
Nick frowned. "She always said she had smart investments."
Eleanor laughed dryly. "Martha doesn't know the difference between a mutual fund and a mall coupon. No, Nicholas. She’s been stealing."
Eleanor pushed a stack of bank statements toward Nick. I leaned over his shoulder as he leafed through them. The color drained from his face as his eyes scanned the highlighted numbers.
"This is my trust fund," Nick whispered, horrified.
"Exactly," Eleanor said. "The trust your father set up for you, which was meant to be transferred to you on your thirtieth birthday. Martha was the trustee. She has been systematically siphoning money from your future to pay for her present."
My jaw dropped. "She stole from her own son?"
"And that’s not all," Eleanor said, pulling out a separate, much thicker folder. "In order to keep her status at the top of the social ladder, she convinced Beatrice Harrington to let her manage a portion of the Harrington family's charity foundation. I had a private investigator look into it while you were on your honeymoon. Martha hasn't just been skimming off the top; she’s been running a full-blown phantom charity scam. She’s defrauded the Harringtons out of nearly half a million dollars over the last four years."
I looked at Nick. The betrayal in his eyes was absolute. His mother wasn't just a toxic snob; she was a criminal who had robbed him blind and was currently destroying his career to cover her tracks.
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"The Harringtons are hosting their annual Summer Gala this Saturday," Nick said, his voice cold and devoid of any familial warmth. "Martha will be there. She’ll be parading around, playing the victim, using their influence to crush my business."
"Then we go to the Gala," I said, my voice steady. I reached up and ran a hand over my buzzed hair. "And we burn her kingdom to the ground."
