Chapter 4 - The Final Supper
The atmosphere at the dinner table was so thick with tension it felt as though we were breathing underwater. The "forensic accountant" I’d invited was actually a high-level private investigator, a man named Elias who had spent his career uncovering corporate fraud. He sat at the far end of the table, his eyes never leaving Eleanor.
Preston, oblivious to the undercurrents, was chattering away about baby names. Harper was barely touching her food, her eyes darting between me and Eleanor. My wife, for her part, was a masterclass in controlled composure. She sipped her wine, her back straight as a rod, her gaze steady.
"Everything alright, dear?" I asked, my voice dripping with forced sweetness. "You haven't mentioned the trust documents yet."
"I was waiting for the right moment, Richard," Eleanor said, her voice smooth. "But perhaps we should discuss the details in private? These legal matters can be so... tiresome for the children."
"Nonsense," Elias spoke up, his voice cutting through the room like a razor. "Mr. Sterling requested my presence to ensure total transparency. It is, after all, a matter of $500,000 worth of real estate and a future heir."
Harper dropped her fork; it clattered loudly against the china. "I think I’m going to be sick," she whispered.
"Oh, don't leave just yet, Harper," I said, leaning forward. "We have so much to talk about. Especially about the 'collateral' you and Eleanor discussed in the bridal lounge."
The room shattered. Preston looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Dad? What are you talking about?"
Eleanor stood up, her mask finally disintegrating into a sneer of pure malice. "You're a fool, Richard. You’ve always been a bore. You think you can trap us? You think your money buys you the right to interrogate us in your own dining room?"
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"It’s not my money that brought us here, Eleanor," I said, rising to meet her. "It’s the truth."
"Truth!" she laughed, a brittle, terrifying sound. "There is no truth! There is only who holds the power. And right now? Preston loves us. He trusts us. He’s never going to believe a word from a bitter, dying old man."
