Chapter 4 - The Mistress's Downfall
"Let's talk about you, Chloe," I said, opening the manila folder I had dropped on the table.
She crossed her arms, her expensive blowout shifting around her shoulders. "I have nothing to say to you."
"That's fine. I have plenty to say to you," I replied, pulling out a stack of 8x10 glossy photographs and throwing them across the desk.
Julian, still reeling from being fired, looked down.
"Chloe Vale," I read from the top sheet. "Born Chloe Vance in Reno, Nevada. Two arrests for check fraud in 2018. A restraining order filed by a married plastic surgeon in 2020 after you tried to extort him with faked pregnancy documents. And a current, massive mountain of debt to a loan shark operating out of Vegas."
Julian’s head snapped up. "What is she talking about, Chloe?"
Chloe’s arrogant facade cracked. Her perfectly lined lips parted, but no sound came out.
"She targeted you, Julian," I said casually, leaning against the desk. "She found out you were the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, scoped you out at that charity gala in May, and played you like a cheap fiddle. She thought she was snagging a billionaire. She didn't realize she was snagging an employee on an allowance."
"Julian, she's lying!" Chloe panicked, grabbing his arm. "She fabricated all of this!"
"Did I?" I pulled out a USB drive and held it up. "This contains the footage from the hidden security cameras in my living room, kitchen, and hallways. The ones Julian didn't know about because he was too busy bringing his mistress into my child's home."
Julian stared at the drive as if it were a live grenade.
"I watched you, Chloe," I said, my voice dropping an octave, losing all its corporate polish and returning to the raw, lethal tone of a federal agent. "I watched you slap my daughter. I watched you lock her in a closet for hours. I watched you force her to scrub the floors until her hands bled."
Chloe took a step back, her eyes darting toward the door.
"You thought you were dealing with a weak, absent housewife," I whispered. "You had no idea whose house you walked into."
Two burly security guards in dark suits stepped into the office.
"Escort Mr. Mercer from the premises," I ordered. "If he tries to take anything other than his coat, have him arrested for theft."
"Clara, please," Julian begged, his arrogance completely evaporating. "We can talk about this. For Maya's sake."
"Don't you ever say her name again," I said softly. "Get him out."
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As the guards dragged a protesting Julian toward the elevators, I turned to Chloe. "And as for you. The Seattle Police have that footage now. I suggest you start running. Because if the cops don't find you, I will."
Chloe didn't wait. She grabbed her designer bag and sprinted for the stairs.
