Chapter 5 - The Fall of the Matriarch
Marguerite glared at me with absolute venom, her pristine image disintegrating in seconds.
"You terrible, ungrateful girl!" she shrieked, taking a step toward me before Lena held up a hand. "We took you in! We gave you a home! And you humiliate me on my birthday in front of my friends?!"
"You didn't take me in, Marguerite," I said, my voice echoing clearly through the high-ceilinged room. "I bought this house with my inheritance five years ago to save Weston from bankruptcy. You moved in six months later and turned me into your maid, your driver, and your unpaid accountant while you spent my money on gold jewelry and country club dues."
Several guests gasped. Mrs. Kensington, Marguerite’s chief rival at the local charity committee, slowly set down her plate of crab cakes and pulled out her phone.
"And as for you, Weston," I said, turning my gaze to my husband, who looked completely drained. "You told me last night that I live here because you allow it. You grabbed my hair and dragged me across the floor because I refused to cook twenty dishes for people who treat me like dirt."
Weston’s face drained of all color. "Brynn, don't do this here..."
"I filed the assault charges this morning at 7:00 AM," I continued smoothly. "The police have the security footage from the kitchen cameras—the ones you installed last month to spy on me."
Weston's jaw dropped. He had forgotten about the smart-home camera mounted above the refrigerator—the very refrigerator where Marguerite had taped her arrogant list.
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Two uniformed officers stepped into the room from the front porch.
"Weston Sutherland," the officer announced, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "You are under arrest for domestic assault and battery. Hands behind your back."
