Chapter 4 - The Recovery
By the third tense day of my secret rebellion, Beatrice’s physical strength was visibly returning to her frail body.
Without the heavy, toxic chemical restraints clouding her mind, her sharp intellect and fierce determination were fully restored.
We spent hours locked safely inside that suffocating bedroom, quietly formulating a foolproof plan to completely destroy my husband.
I quickly learned that Beatrice had personally built the massive real estate empire that Julian was now aggressively stealing.
“He always fiercely resented my absolute success, believing that the massive fortune should have been handed to him simply because he is a man,” Beatrice explained.
“He is a pathetic, weak little boy desperately playing at being a corporate shark, entirely manipulated by his greedy mother.”
I sat on the edge of the sagging mattress, quietly recording our entire conversation on my encrypted smartphone for the legal case.
“I successfully contacted an aggressive federal prosecutor who specializes in massive financial fraud and severe elder abuse,” I told her quietly.
“I securely sent him a small sample of the financial spreadsheets, and he is already secretly preparing the massive criminal indictments.”
Suddenly, the heavy brass doorknob violently rattled, sending a terrifying jolt of pure panic straight through my spine.
“Clara, unlock this damn door right this second!” Julian shouted angrily from the dark, echoing hallway.
Beatrice instantly closed her eyes, letting her head loll completely to the side as she pretended to be heavily sedated.
I quickly shoved my encrypted phone deep into my pocket, smoothed my skirt, and unlocked the heavy oak door for my husband.
Julian aggressively stormed into the bedroom, his face flushed with an ugly, terrifying rage that I had never seen before.
“Why in the hell is this door locked during the middle of the afternoon?” he demanded, glaring down at me furiously.
“She was having a terrible panic attack, and I didn't want her wandering around the house and hurting herself,” I lied effortlessly.
He violently pushed past me, leaning over the bed to inspect his grandmother’s seemingly unconscious, fragile form.
He harshly grabbed her thin wrist, checking her pulse with a cold, clinical detachment that made my stomach aggressively churn.
“Her breathing is far too steady, Clara, are you absolutely sure you gave her the correct dosage this morning?” he asked suspiciously.
“I crushed two full pills into her breakfast, exactly as your mother explicitly instructed me to do,” I replied calmly.
Julian narrowed his dark eyes, clearly dissatisfied but entirely unable to prove that anything was actually wrong with her.
“Keep a much closer eye on her, because we cannot afford any stupid mistakes at this critical stage of the asset transfer,” he warned me.
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“The corrupt lawyers are coming to the house tomorrow evening to finalize the massive paperwork, and she needs to be completely silent.”
“I understand perfectly, Julian, I will make sure she doesn't make a single sound,” I promised, hiding my deep, venomous hatred.
