Chapter 6 - The Bitter Confrontation
Three days later, I was leaving a charity benefit at the Richmond Museum of Fine Arts—an event where I had once stood quietly in Derek’s shadow, but was now attending as the guest of honor.
As I walked toward my car, a shadow detached itself from the side of the building.
"Vivian!"
Derek stumbled into the light. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot, and he smelled heavily of alcohol.
"Derek," I said, stopping. My security detail instantly stepped between us, but I raised my hand to hold them back. "What do you want?"
"Please," he gasped, falling to his knees on the concrete. "Vivian, I'm sorry. I was blind. Sloane manipulated me! She was the one who kept pushing me to take more money, to treat you like that. I lost my mind!"
I looked down at him. "Sloane didn't hold the belt, Derek. You did."
"I was angry! I was under so much pressure!" He reached out, trying to grab the hem of my dress. "We can start over. We don't need your father’s money. We can go away, just the two of us. I'll do whatever you want. Just tell your lawyers to drop the charges."
"There are no charges to drop, Derek," I said softly. "The state of Virginia is prosecuting you for domestic assault. And the federal government is prosecuting you for financial fraud. I have nothing to do with it anymore."
Derek’s desperate demeanor suddenly vanished. He stood up, his face contorting with a venomous rage. "You think you're so smart? You're nothing without your daddy's money! You're a shadow! You've always been a shadow!"
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"If I am a shadow, Derek," I said, stepping into my car, "it's because you were too dim to realize who was blocking the light."
The security guard closed the door, and we pulled away, leaving Derek screaming curses into the empty night.
