Chapter 3 - The Empty Shell
I walked into the kitchen, which now contained absolutely nothing except the built-in cabinets and the bare granite countertops.
I retrieved a single piece of heavy, expensive stationery and a black fountain pen from my designer leather tote bag.
I placed the paper on the cold granite, exactly on the spot where Nathan had stood when he violently slapped me.
"Nathan," I wrote in my elegant, unwavering cursive handwriting.
"You loudly proclaimed this morning that you own this place now."
"I am thrilled to inform you that as of 1:15 PM today, this property is legally owned by Apex Commercial Demolitions."
"I sold the house, I took all of my actual belongings, and I have officially moved on with my wealthy, peaceful life."
"You and your delightful wife have exactly twenty-four hours to vacate the premises before the new corporate owners send the police to remove trespassers."
"Do not attempt to contact me, do not look for me, and remember to take your own medication."
I signed it simply as "Margaret," completely stripping away the maternal title of "Mom" that he no longer deserved to use.
I placed the note perfectly in the center of the kitchen island, anchoring it down with the heavy set of spare house keys.
I picked up my single leather overnight bag, which contained all the important documents and jewelry I needed.
I walked out of the front door, locking it firmly behind me, and stepped into the waiting luxury black car I had hired.
"To the airport, please," I told the professional driver, sinking comfortably into the plush, heated leather seats.
I was flying first-class to a stunning, five-star luxury resort in Aspen, where I planned to drink expensive champagne and watch the drama unfold from afar.
As the car pulled away from the curb, I looked back at the beautiful house one last time, feeling absolutely nothing but sweet, vindicating relief.
I pulled out my phone, opened my security camera app, and verified that the hidden micro-cameras I had installed weeks ago were functioning perfectly.
Nathan thought he was a genius for putting cameras in the hallways, but he had completely forgotten who actually paid the internet bill.
I had secretly placed my own tiny cameras in the living room and kitchen, purely for my own future entertainment.
Now, all I had to do was sit back, relax, and wait for my arrogant son to come home from his mediocre middle-management job.
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The trap was flawlessly set, the bait was taken, and the absolute destruction of his massive ego was only hours away.
I ordered a sparkling water from the car's mini-fridge, toasted to my own brilliant ruthlessness, and enjoyed the smooth ride to my new life.
