Chapter 4 - The Bennett Family Retaliation
Three days later, the pushback began.
I was sitting in the hospital lactation room when my phone buzzed. It was an unfamiliar local number. I answered, keeping my voice low.
"Claire?"
The voice on the other end was deep, authoritative, and accustomed to being obeyed. It was Richard Bennett—Preston’s father, Patricia’s ex-husband, and a prominent senior legal figure in North Carolina.
"Richard," I said, my tone ice-cold.
"Claire, I am calling you from my office in Gastonia," Richard said, skipping any pleasantries. "I have spent the last forty-eight hours dealing with the mess you created in Charlotte. Preston is currently out on bail, but his mugshot has already leaked to the local business journal. Patricia is threatening a nervous breakdown. This has gone entirely too far."
I let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I created a mess, Richard? Your son embezzled funds from my business, abandoned his critically ill newborn to fly to Florida, and let your ex-wife convince him that my baby’s suffocating face was just 'dramatic hysterics.'"
"Preston made a foolish, immature mistake," Richard snapped, his tone darkening. "He listened to his mother’s poor judgment. But he is a young professional with a bright career in commercial banking. A felony charge on his record will destroy his life!"
"He destroyed his own life the moment he left his son in an ICU to go drink on a beach," I replied.
"Listen to me very carefully, Claire," Richard warned, dropping his voice to a dangerous register. "I know you are emotional right now. But you need to remember who you are dealing with. The Bennett family has deep roots in this state. If you proceed with these criminal charges and attempt to strip Preston of his parental rights, I will throw every legal resource I possess at you. I will hire the best custody attorneys in the South. I will claim you are suffering from severe postpartum psychosis, that you manufactured this medical crisis to isolate the baby from his father, and I will take full custody of Noah away from you permanently."
A cold rage burned through my veins, but I didn't lose my temper. Marcus had warned me this was coming. The Bennetts were used to using money, connections, and intimidation to make their problems disappear.
"Are you finished, Richard?" I asked calmly.
"I am giving you twenty-four hours to drop the charges and agree to a joint custody arrangement," Richard stated. "Otherwise, prepare for war."
"I don't need twenty-four hours," I said. "And if you want a war, Richard, you should probably check who is standing in your command tent first."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means my brother Marcus has spent the last forty-eight hours auditing every financial record from Preston’s joint accounts," I said, leaning back against the wall. "Do you know what he found, Richard? Preston didn't just use my corporate credit card for Florida. Over the last eighteen months, he has been siphoning money from his employer's escrow accounts into a private offshore account to cover his massive online gambling debts—debts he accumulated while sitting in your ex-wife's living room."
Silence descended on the line. Heavy, suffocating silence.
"And guess whose name is listed as the secondary trustee on that offshore account, Richard?" I continued, twisting the knife. "Patricia’s."
I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.
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"So go ahead, Richard," I said, my voice dripping with quiet triumph. "File your custody motions. Claim I have postpartum psychosis. Because the second you file a single document in court, Marcus will hand those federal banking records directly to the United States Attorney's Office for the Eastern District of North Carolina. Let's see how well the 'Bennett family roots' hold up against federal wire fraud and tax evasion."
I didn't wait for him to respond. I hung up the phone, blocked the number, and walked back into my son’s hospital room with a cold, victorious smile on my face.
