Chapter 4 - The Housewarming of Fools
Two weeks after my discharge from the hospital, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow across the tranquil waters of Pine Ridge Lake. From my temporary apartment downtown, I watched the live security feed from the hidden cameras my grandfather had installed decades ago—cameras Evan and Diane didn't even know existed.
The lake house looked radiant. String lights twinkled along the wraparound porch, and expensive European cars lined the gravel driveway. Inside, Evan’s business partners, local socialites, and sycophantic friends mingled in the spacious living room. Diane Mercer, draped in a emerald silk dress that belonged to my late grandmother, stood by the stone fireplace holding a crystal flute of vintage champagne, laughing loudly as she accepted congratulations from guests on her “stunning new permanent residence.”
On the multi-split monitor, I watched Evan walk up behind his mother, planting a kiss on her cheek before raising his glass to address the crowd.
“To new beginnings,” Evan announced into a wireless microphone, his voice echoing through the integrated sound system right into my headphones. “And to shedding the dead weight of the past. Some people simply aren’t equipped for the lifestyle this home demands. But with hard work, vision, and the right partner by your side, everything falls into place.”
Laughter and applause erupted through the room. Guests clinked their glasses. On screen, I watched Diane beam with pride, basking in the stolen glory of a home she had literally tried to kill me to possess.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a text message from an unknown number. I opened it. It was a photo sent by one of Evan’s disgruntled restaurant managers whom Evan had recently stiffed on payroll: *“He’s telling everyone at the party he’s buying a yacht next month with the proceeds from selling your grandfather’s antique boat collection.”*
I unlocked my laptop, opened a secure encrypted terminal, and dialed Naomi Price’s private cell.
“Naomi,” I said calmly, watching Diane on screen as she poured another round of champagne from my grandfather’s crystal decanter. “The party is in full swing.”
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“Wonderful,” Naomi’s voice came back through the speaker, crisp and steady. “The emergency receivership papers were signed by Judge Holloway twenty minutes ago. The freeze orders on all of Evan’s commercial and personal accounts have been transmitted to federal clearinghouses. The local sheriff’s department has been briefed on the criminal trespassing and physical assault warrants for Diane.”
“Good,” I whispered, staring at the smiling face of my soon-to-be-ex-husband on the screen. “Let’s make sure they have a night they’ll never forget.”
