Chapter 8 - The House of Cards Falls
Arthur Harrington was a man who did not tolerate being made a fool. He took the USB drive, his face darkening like a thundercloud. He looked at Martha, then at his wife, and finally back to Nick. "Are you absolutely certain about this, Nicholas? Because if this is a stunt..."
"I have copies lodged with the district attorney's office as of three o'clock this afternoon," Nick said calmly. "I'm not here to cause a scene, Arthur. I'm here out of respect for your family, to ensure you hear it from me before the police arrive at your foundation's offices on Monday morning."
The absolute certainty in Nick's voice was the final nail in the coffin. Martha’s knees visibly buckled. She reached out, trying to grab Mrs. Harrington’s arm. "Beatrice, please, you have to believe me. We're best friends! I would never—"
Mrs. Harrington snatched her arm away with violent disgust. "Don't touch me," she spat. "If what he says is true, you've been stealing money meant for the children's hospital to buy designer shoes. You sicken me."
Chloe, realizing the social ship was sinking, physically backed away from Martha, retreating into the crowd to distance herself from the radioactive fallout.
Martha was completely alone, standing in the center of the ballroom, surrounded by the high society she had worshipped her entire life. And they were looking at her not with admiration, but with absolute, unadulterated revulsion. The whispers began again, loud and venomous.
Thief. Fraud. Trash.
She had tried to cast me as the unworthy outsider, but in the end, she had exposed herself as the ultimate fraud. The panic finally set in. Her chest heaved, her perfectly manicured hands shook, and the carefully constructed mask she had worn for decades shattered entirely.
"I did it for us!" Martha screamed at Nick, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup. "I did it so you could have a respectable life! So you wouldn't end up with some nobody!"
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"I have a perfectly respectable life," Nick said, pulling me close to his side. "And a wife who has more class in her little finger than you have in your entire body. We are done, Mom. Do not contact me again."
With that, Nick turned his back on her. We didn't stay to watch the rest of her breakdown. We walked back up the grand staircase, heads held high, as the crowd parted for us once more. We left the country club with the sound of Martha’s hysterical sobbing echoing in the background.
