Chapter 2 - The Fall of the House of Morrison
The next few hours were a blur of cold, clinical destruction.
As the auditors moved through the mansion—tagging assets, seizing digital devices, and voiding legal documents—the facade of the Morrison family cracked. Diane, once the queen of the local social circle, was on the phone with a dozen lawyers, only to find that every single firm in the city was under retainer by my company.
"You can't do this!" Diane screamed, her voice cracking as she paced the foyer. "We have connections! We have history!"
"History is just a story someone else paid to write, Diane," I said, standing by the door as the movers began to crate their belongings. "And I stopped paying for yours."
Brendan grabbed my arm, his grip hard. The veneer of his "charming" persona was gone, replaced by raw, desperate anger. "Cassidy, listen to me. We have a child on the way. We can work this out. Just call them off, and we can go back to how things were."
May you like
I looked down at his hand on my arm, then back up at his eyes. I remembered every cold word, every night spent alone, every time I had been told to be grateful for the crumbs they gave me.
"I'm not going back to how things were," I said, pulling away. "I’m moving forward to something better."
