Chapter 2 - The Aftermath in Pasadena
The morning sun rose over Santa Monica, casting a hazy light over the tiny, one-bedroom apartment Claire had offered to Evelyn with such condescension. Inside, the atmosphere was far from serene.
Claire was pacing the narrow living room, still wearing her crumpled silk wedding dress, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from a night of furious phone calls and hysterical screaming fits. Daniel sat on a sofa that was missing one of its rear cushions, his head buried in his hands.
Sitting across from them was Richard Miller, Claire’s father, who had been bailed out of the Pitkin County jail at three o'clock in the morning using the last remaining balance on his credit card. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his tie missing, and his demeanor radiating pure malice. Beside him sat his wife, Eleanor, weeping loudly into a paper towel, and their daughter Megan, who was furiously tapping away on her phone, leaving negative reviews for the Aspen Police Department.
"This is an absolute disgrace!" Richard slammed his hand down on the coffee table, rattling two lukewarm cups of instant coffee. "I spent forty-eight hours in a holding cell because your crazy mother treats a piece of dirt like a sacred shrine! Daniel, you assured us she wouldn't make a scene! You said she was soft!"
"I thought she was!" Daniel protested, lifting his face. "She's always been quiet! Ever since Dad died, she just stays up in Aspen, reading books and tending to those stupid gardens! I didn't think she'd actually call the cops on family!"
"We are not her family, clearly," Eleanor sobbed. "Richard, the movers are charging us five hundred dollars every hour those trucks sit in the storage yard! We don't have that kind of money! We sold the Pasadena house to pay off your trading debts, and now we don't even have a roof over our heads!"
"Shut up, Eleanor!" Richard barked. He turned his venomous glare back to Daniel. "Listen to me, boy. You are Henry Carter’s only son. That estate belongs to you just as much as it belongs to her. What did your father's will say?"
Daniel shrank back slightly. "The estate was left in a private trust. Mom is the primary trustee for her lifetime. I’m a contingent beneficiary. I don't inherit a single square foot of Aspen until..." He stopped, unable to finish the sentence.
"Until she dies," Claire interjected coldly. She walked over to the window, looking down at the street below. "Which means right now, she holds all the cards. But she made a mistake last night. She humiliated us in front of two hundred people. Half of Beverly Hills socialites were in that room. My reputation is ruined!"
"Your reputation?" Daniel looked at his wife, a flicker of irritation breaking through his usual passivity. "Claire, you literally told my mother in front of everyone that you were putting her in this dump while your family took over her fourteen-hectare estate! What did you think people were going to say?"
"I was being practical!" Claire snapped, spinning around, her silk skirt swishing loudly. "Why should an old woman live alone in a mansion with twelve bedrooms while my family struggles? It’s inefficient! It’s selfish! And besides, Daniel, you agreed to this plan!"
"I agreed to ask her!" Daniel shouted, finally standing up. "I didn't agree to your parents sending moving trucks to Colorado before we even cut the wedding cake! You tricked me!"
"Oh, grow up, Daniel!" Megan piped up from the corner, not looking up from her phone. "You wanted us up there just as much as Claire did. You wanted your father-in-law to set you up with that real estate investment firm in Denver. You scratch our back, we take the guest house. That was the deal."
Daniel sank back down onto the couch, realization washing over him like cold water. He had been a tool. A pawn in a game calculated by Claire and her father from the moment they started dating eighteen months ago. They had seen his family name—Carter—and assumed it came with boundless wealth and a spineless heir who could be manipulated into handing over the crown jewels.
Suddenly, Daniel’s phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number with an Aspen area code.
He quickly answered it, hoping against hope it was his mother calling to offer an olive branch. "Mom?"
"This is not your mother, Mr. Carter," a stern, crisp voice replied. "My name is Harrison Vance, senior partner at Vance & Sterling Legal Associates. I represent your mother, Mrs. Evelyn Carter, in her capacity as sole trustee of the Carter Family Heritage Trust."
Daniel’s blood ran cold. "Harrison? I know who you are. You were my dad’s lawyer."
"Indeed I was," Harrison said coolly. "And I am writing to inform you that as of 8:00 AM this morning, Mrs. Carter has executed a formal revoking of your access privileges to the Aspen property. Furthermore, she has instructed us to initiate a complete audit of the allowance trust established for you following your father's passing."
"What?" Daniel gasped. "She’s cutting me off?"
"The allowance was contingent upon your continued non-interference with the trust's assets," Harrison explained dispassionately. "Your attempt to grant unauthorized tenancy to third parties constitutes a material breach of the trust guidelines. Additionally, Mrs. Carter has filed a formal restraining order against Richard Miller, Eleanor Miller, and Megan Miller, prohibiting them from coming within five hundred yards of any Carter property nationwide."
Claire snatched the phone out of Daniel’s hand and put it on speaker. "You listen to me, you old lawyer leech! You tell Evelyn that if she doesn't give my parents access to that guest house by the end of the day, I will take Daniel to court and sue her for his rightful share of his father's estate! We will drag her through every tabloid in the country!"
There was a brief pause on the line, followed by a dry, quiet laugh from Harrison Vance.
"Mrs. Carter," the lawyer said softly, "anticipated you might take that stance. So she authorized me to give you a piece of advice, free of charge."
"What advice?" Claire demanded.
"Read the prenuptial agreement you signed thirty minutes before walking down the aisle, my dear," Harrison said smoothly. "Clause 14, Section B clearly states that any attempt to litigate against the Carter Trust by a spouse results in the immediate and total forfeiture of all marital claims to family assets, past, present, and future. Have a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Carter. Or should I say, Ms. Miller?"
The line went dead.
Claire stared at the phone as if it had turned into a venomous snake. She looked at Daniel, her eyes wide with sudden terror.
"Daniel... what prenuptial agreement?"
May you like
Daniel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "The one my mother’s lawyers made us sign before the ceremony. The one you signed without reading because you were too busy arguing with the florist."
Silence descended upon the small Santa Monica apartment, heavy, suffocating, and absolute.
