Chapter 5 - The Dismantling of Thalia’s World
While Kyle awaited trial in a six-by-eight concrete federal cell, the collateral damage of our reckoning swept through New York’s high-society circles like a category-five hurricane.
Thalia Collins—who had spent three years positioning herself as the rising queen of Manhattan charity boards, luxury galas, and high-end real estate circles—discovered overnight what it meant to have zero financial safety net when the men funding your lifestyle went to prison.
Three days after Kyle’s arraignment, I sat in a private glass-walled booth at a quiet, exclusive restaurant on the Upper East Side, sipping green tea and watching the snow fall gently over Central Park.
The restaurant doors swung open, and Thalia walked in.
She looked entirely different from the woman who had stood in our grand hall holding a glass of champagne while Kyle threatened me. Her designer winter-white blazer was wrinkled, her hair was pulled back into a messy, unstyled ponytail, and her expensive handbag was gone, replaced by a cheap canvas tote bag.
She spotted me through the glass and hurried over, sliding into the booth opposite me without an invitation. Her hands were shaking.
“Bella,” Thalia breathed, her voice desperate, pitching into a frantic whisper. “Bella, please. You have to help me.”
I didn't move. I slowly set my teacup down on the saucer, keeping my eyes fixed on her face.
“Help you, Thalia?” I asked calmly. “That’s an interesting choice of words. Last time we spoke, you were telling me I should apologize if I wanted to keep a room in my own guest wing.”
Thalia flinched, biting her lower lip so hard a tiny drop of blood appeared.
“I was stupid,” she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Kyle lied to me! He told me you were emotionally unstable, that your marriage was already over, that you were just a gold-digger who trapped him with your family’s money! He said—he said you didn't even care about him!”
“And you believed him,” I said, my voice completely devoid of pity. “Not because you thought he was telling the truth, but because you wanted his money, his estate, and his position on the boards. You wanted what I had built, and you thought you could push me out the way you’ve pushed out everyone else in your life.”
“The apartments are gone,” Thalia whispered, breaking down completely, her tears spilling over her cheeks. “The landlord evicted me yesterday morning because the credit cards were frozen. The charity boards have blacklisted my name. Even my own family won’t answer my calls because the media is camped outside my parents’ house. I’m pregnant, Bella! I have nothing!”
I leaned back against the plush leather booth, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You have your freedom, Thalia,” I said evenly. “Which is considerably more than you were willing to grant me when you stood in my hallway watching Kyle raise his hands against me. And as for your child—well, unlike you and Kyle, I don’t believe in punishing the innocent. My father’s foundation has set up a confidential medical and housing grant for mothers in distress. You can apply through the standard public portal like anyone else.”
Thalia stared at me, her mouth trembling, realizing the terrifying depth of her miscalculation. She had tried to conquer a queen, not knowing she was trespassing in a kingdom.
“You’re cold,” she whispered, standing up slowly from the booth.
May you like
“No, Thalia,” I said, picking up my teacup once more. “I’m just finally awake.”
Without another word, Thalia turned and hurried out of the restaurant, swallowed up by the cold New York winter storm outside.
