Chapter 4 - Melissa's Mask Slips
Melissa, realizing that the narrative had completely imploded and that Robert and Patricia were sinking fast, decided to cut her losses with the cold calculation of a professional opportunist.
She pushed her way through the crowd of guests, her expression twisting from sophisticated arrogance into sneering contempt.
“Honestly, this is pathetic,” Melissa announced loudly, clapping her hands together with a sharp, sarcastic snap. “You people are acting like a bunch of peasants over an old house. Robert, Patricia, you should have thrown these ungrateful freeloaders out years ago instead of letting them play house in your backyard!”
Patricia blinked, momentarily stunned by Melissa’s sudden betrayal. “Melissa, darling, what are you—?”
“Don't 'darling' me, Patricia,” Melissa snapped, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I wasted six months trying to help you secure this property so I could finally get my stake in the family trust, and you let a couple of children and a stubborn accountant outsmart you? I’m done.”
She turned on her heel, pushing rudely past the shocked guests in the doorway.
“Excuse me, move! Some of us have social calendars to attend, unlike these miserable beggars.”
“Leaving so soon, Melissa?” Jack called out, his voice smooth and laced with sharp amusement.
Melissa froze, her hand resting on the brass doorknob. She turned her head back with a suspicious glare. “What do you want?”
“Before you pack your bags and run back to your downtown apartment, you might want to know that my legal team audited the charitable foundation accounts you’ve been managing for Robert over the past year,” Jack said casually, pulling a separate manila folder from the desk. “Embezzling half a million dollars from a children’s cancer charity to fund your luxury shopping sprees tends to leave a very distinct paper trail.”
The color drained entirely from Melissa’s face. The designer handbag slipped from her fingers, hitting the marble floor with a heavy thud.
“You... you’re lying,” she stammered, her voice losing all its venom.
“Am I?” Jack raised an eyebrow, opening the folder to reveal signed bank transfers bearing Melissa’s personal signature and routing numbers. “Federal investigators were notified twenty minutes ago. By the time you reach your car at the front gate, marshals will be waiting to hand you a very different kind of invitation.”
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Melissa let out a choked gasp, panicked, and bolted down the hallway toward the private exit, abandoning her shoes, her dignity, and her grand plans in one fell swoop.
The remaining guests watched her frantic escape in stunned silence. The party was officially over.
