Chapter 4 - The Rat Jumps Ship
By 10:00 PM that evening, the pressure on Maxime and Chloé reached a boiling point.
They were staying in a cheap, sixty-dollar-a-night roadside motel near the highway—the only place Chloé’s father was willing to pay for after discovering that Maxime was completely broke and under federal investigation.
My phone rang at 11:15 PM. The caller ID showed a blocked line.
I answered, placing the call on speaker while Arthur Sterling recorded from his laptop.
"Hello?" I said softly.
"Eleanor... it’s Chloé," a desperate, trembling whisper came through the speaker. She was crying hysterically, her voice muffled as if she were hiding in a bathroom.
"Why are you calling me, Chloé?" I asked coldly.
"Eleanor, please... you have to help me!" Chloé sobbed into the phone. "I didn't know! I swear to God I didn't know about the five million dollars! Maxime lied to me about everything! He told me the money was his! He told me the dog bowl was just a lighthearted prank that you two always did in your family!"
"A lighthearted prank?" I chuckled coldly. "You were filming me with the iPhone I bought you, giggling while your husband called me a mutt."
"He made me do it!" Chloé squealed, throwing her husband under the bus without a second of hesitation. "Maxime is insane, Eleanor! He’s out of his mind! He’s packing a bag right now in the motel room. He’s planning to take his passport and fly to Mexico before the federal indictment comes down tomorrow morning!"
Arthur Sterling instantly perked up, tapping his keyboard to alert our legal team and federal agents.
"Is that so?" I asked smoothly.
"Yes! Yes!" Chloé gasped, her voice dripping with venomous self-preservation. "He has a hidden safe deposit box at Chase Bank in Santa Monica! It has two hundred thousand dollars in cash and three forged passports! If you help me... if you clear my name, give me a small settlement, and tell the police I was innocent, I will give you the key to the safe deposit box right now! I will testify against him in court!"
I sat back in my velvet leather armchair, marveling at the utter lack of honor among parasites. She had spent five years enjoying my wealth, wearing my jewels, and mocking my age—and the moment the ship sank, she was ready to skin my son alive to save her own skin.
"Chloé," I said, my voice dripping with quiet contempt. "Do you know what the difference between you and Maxime is?"
Chloé went quiet. "What... what?"
"Maxime is a cruel, greedy foolish boy who forgot where he came from," I said softly. "But you... you are a hypocritical leech who sold her soul for a handbag. You deserve every single thing that is coming to you."
"Wait—Eleanor! No! Please!" Chloé screamed into the receiver.
"Thank you for informing us about the safe deposit box and the flight risk, Chloé," I added smoothly. "The federal marshals are already outside your motel room."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Through the phone line, I heard heavy boots slamming against a cheap motel door, followed by federal agents shouting: "FEDERAL MARSHALS! OPEN THE DOOR! MAXIME VANCE, STEP AWAY FROM THE BAGS AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"
Chloé let out a terrified shriek as the phone dropped to the carpet, followed by the sound of shouting, scuffling, and the sharp, metallic snap of double-lock handcuffs clicking into place.
I reached down and disconnected the call.
May you like
Arthur looked over at me, raising his glass of scotch in a quiet salute. "Federal marshals have taken Maxime into custody on federal flight risk warrants. He won't be seeing the outside of a cell for a long time."
"Good," I said, taking a quiet breath. "Now let's finish the job."
