Chapter 5 - The Financial Guillotine
The party was officially dead.
The hired face painters were packing up their kits, and the wealthy guests were awkwardly shuffling toward the exit, desperate to escape the matriarch’s wrath.
Eleanor tapped her cane again, signaling that she was far from finished.
“Beatrice, I want you to go into the house and pack your bags,” Eleanor commanded, her voice slicing through the humid summer air.
Beatrice’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock and confusion.
“Pack my bags? What are you talking about, Mother Eleanor?”
Eleanor reached into the pocket of her tailored blazer and pulled out a sleek, modern smartphone.
“Did you forget whose name is actually on the deed to this extravagant estate?” Eleanor asked.
Beatrice stumbled backward, bumping into the dessert table and knocking over a tower of expensive macarons.
“You allowed my great-granddaughter to sit by the trash in a house that I fully own,” Eleanor stated, her voice devoid of any mercy.
“You have thirty days to vacate this property.”
Beatrice let out a strangled, hysterical sob, falling to her knees right on the wooden deck.
“You can’t do this! Where will we go? My husband’s business is struggling!” she shrieked, all of her polished grace completely evaporating.
“You should have thought about your financial security before you mocked the woman who actually works for a living,” Eleanor replied.
The matriarch dialed a number on her phone, putting it on speaker so the entire patio could hear.
“Mr. Sterling,” Eleanor said to her private wealth manager.
“Yes, Mrs. Harrington?” the voice echoed from the phone.
“I need you to freeze Beatrice’s discretionary trust fund immediately, and revoke her access to the family’s corporate accounts.”
“Understood, ma'am. It will be done within the hour.”
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Eleanor hung up the phone and looked down at the weeping, ruined woman at her feet.
“Welcome to the real world, Beatrice,” Eleanor said simply.
