Chapter 5 - The Descent of Brendan Morrison
Fifteen minutes later, the private elevator chimed, and Brendan Morrison stepped out into the eighty-fifth-floor executive suite.
He looked unrecognizable compared to the arrogant, smug man who had laughed at me over Sunday dinner less than forty-eight hours ago. His designer suit was wrinkled, his hair was uncombed, and dark, exhausted circles bruised the skin beneath his frantic eyes. He had clearly spent the entire night driving from bank to bank, lawyer to lawyer, discovering at every single turn that his name was absolute poison in the business world.
When his eyes landed on me—standing behind the massive quartz executive desk, wearing a tailored designer suit that cost more than his entire wardrobe—he stumbled forward, catching himself on the edge of a leather armchair.
"Cassidy..." Brendan breathed, his voice cracking violently. "Cassidy, please. You have to listen to me. It was a mistake. Mom... Mom didn't know what she was doing. She’s old, she’s delusional—"
"She’s currently facing federal indictment for corporate embezzlement," I interrupted, my voice devoid of any warmth or emotion. "And you, Brendan, are facing civil lawsuits for asset misrepresentation and fraudulent marriage concealment."
Brendan fell to his knees on the plush wool carpet, ignoring the stares of Arthur and Elena who stood near the doorway.
"We’re having a baby!" Brendan sobbed, reaching out toward my desk with trembling hands. "Don't you care about our child? How can you be so cold? I’m your husband!"
"You were a parasite, Brendan," I corrected coldly, walking slowly around the desk until I stood right above him. "You married a woman you thought was poor, vulnerable, and completely dependent on your family's scraps so you could play the lord of the manor while embezzling funds from my company. Let's be very clear: you are not my husband anymore. You are a legal liability I am currently scrubbing off my balance sheet."
Brendan’s face twisted in sudden, desperate anger as the mask of humility shattered.
"You tricked me!" he screamed, spitting flecks of foam onto the carpet. "You lied to me for three years! You let me walk around thinking you were nobody while you sat on billions! That’s entrapment! That’s fraud!"
"Fraud?" I laughed, a sharp, cold sound that echoed off the glass walls. "I didn't lie to you, Brendan. I just never told you who I was. And why should I have? Whenever I tried to talk about investments or business strategy, you told me to go bake cookies or pick out throw pillows for the living room."
Arthur stepped forward, signalling to two security guards stationed by the elevator doors.
"Mr. Morrison, your visitor’s pass has expired," Arthur said coldly.
The two guards grabbed Brendan by the shoulders, hoisting him up off the floor despite his frantic, pathetic thrashing.
"Cassidy! You can't do this to me! I'll ruin you! I'll tell everyone!" Brendan shrieked as they dragged him backward toward the elevator.
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"Tell everyone what, Brendan?" I called out calmly as the elevator doors slid open. "That the woman you abused and humiliated owns the ground you're standing on?"
The doors closed, cutting off his hysterical screams.
