Chapter 4 - The Ultimatum
When Mark walked through the front door that evening, I was sitting at the kitchen island, waiting for him.
The kids were in the living room doing homework, oblivious to the storm brewing in the house.
I poured Mark a glass of wine and quickly, quietly recounted every single detail of Eleanor’s ambush.
I watched the muscles in Mark’s jaw tighten, ticking violently as his face flushed with a terrifying, silent rage.
He didn't yell, he didn't throw anything, which somehow made his anger even more intimidating.
“She threatened to cut Ethan and Olivia’s college funds?” Mark asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
“Yes,” I nodded, gripping my own wine glass. “She brought a lawyer. She wants me to sign away the adoption for cash.”
Mark pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb swiping aggressively across the screen.
He didn't call his mother. He called his father, Richard.
“Dad. Put me on speakerphone right now so Mom can hear this,” Mark commanded the second the line connected.
There was a brief pause, a rustling of fabric, and then Richard’s voice echoed through the speaker.
“Mark, son, we’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses—”
“Shut up and listen to me,” Mark interrupted, his tone completely devoid of any familial respect.
“If my mother ever sets foot on my property again, I will have her arrested for trespassing and harassment.”
I could hear Eleanor gasp sharply in the background on the other end of the line.
“Furthermore,” Mark continued mercilessly, “keep your toxic money. I don't want a single dime of the Vance trust fund.”
“Mark, don't be dramatic!” Eleanor screeched through the speaker. “You are throwing away your children’s entire future for a girl who isn't yours!”
“Maya is mine!” Mark roared, his voice shaking the walls of our kitchen.
“I will pay for Ethan and Olivia’s college myself. I will build my own legacy. You are completely dead to me, Eleanor.”
Before either of his parents could formulate a response, Mark ended the call and blocked their numbers.
He tossed the phone onto the granite counter, running his hands through his hair in deep frustration.
I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest.
“Are you sure about this, Mark?” I asked softly. “It’s millions of dollars. Your kids might resent us.”
Mark looked down at me, his eyes entirely clear and resolute.
“We are calling a family meeting tonight,” he decided. “Ethan and Olivia deserve to know the truth about what their grandmother just tried to pull.”
I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.
Teenagers were unpredictable, and the promise of a massive inheritance was a heavy weight for a kid to comprehend.
May you like
But Mark was right; hiding it would only give Eleanor more ammunition to manipulate them behind our backs.
It was time to lay all our cards on the table, no matter the cost.
