Chapter 7 - The Wrath of a Titan
Arthur took Mason and me to his massive penthouse overlooking Central Park.
We spent hours sitting in his luxurious living room, going through every single document in the strongbox.
When Arthur read the bank ledgers showing how they had drained my college fund for Ashley's wedding, his face turned purple with rage.
“They forced my granddaughter to work two jobs and take out loans while they lived like royalty,” Arthur growled.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
“Get me the best private investigators in the state,” Arthur ordered into the phone.
“I want every bank account, every offshore trust, and every property owned by David and Susan Bennett frozen by midnight.”
Arthur had the wealth and power to do what Mr. Vance and the local police could not do quickly.
He unleashed a legal and financial tsunami on my aunt and uncle.
Within forty-eight hours, David and Susan’s credit cards were completely declined.
The bank foreclosed on their massive suburban house because they had used my stolen trust fund as collateral and missed the payments.
Ashley’s new husband, Jordan, finally filed for an annulment when he realized the entire family was broke and facing federal prison time.
I felt a dark sense of satisfaction watching their empire of lies crumble to dust.
They had tried to bury me, but they didn't realize I was a seed.
One afternoon, Arthur invited me into his private study.
“Claire, my legal team has compiled enough evidence to send them to federal prison for a minimum of fifteen years,” Arthur said gently.
“The trial date has been set for next month.”
“But I want to know what you want to do with your life now.”
“You don't have to worry about money ever again.”
I looked out the window at the sprawling city below.
“I want to finish my master's degree in architecture,” I told him truthfully.
“I want to take the Vermont lake house and completely restore it.”
“And I want to make sure no other child in our family is ever manipulated like I was.”
Arthur smiled proudly, resting his hand on my shoulder.
“You are exactly like your father, Claire,” he said warmly.
“Brilliant, resilient, and incredibly brave.”
Mason knocked on the door and walked into the study.
“The district attorney just called,” Mason announced, holding his phone.
“David and Susan are begging for a plea deal.”
“They want to avoid a public trial.”
I looked at my grandfather, and we both shared the exact same thought.
“Tell the DA there will be no plea deals,” I said coldly.
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“They wanted to make my life a public spectacle at my graduation dinner.”
“Now, they can face the public in a courtroom.”
