Chapter 7 - The House of Cards Collapses
Ryan stared at Madison as if she were speaking an ancient, unintelligible language.
The color drained entirely from his skin, leaving behind a pale, waxy grey.
"What did you just say?" Ryan whispered, his gaze shifting slowly from Madison to Vanessa.
Vanessa’s hands gripped the silk sheets so tightly the fabric tore near the hem.
Her eyes darted frantically toward the exit, but the two security guards were blocking the door frame.
"Ryan, don't listen to them," Vanessa cried, her voice climbing into an hysterical screech.
"They are lying to you!"
"They fabricated those documents to tear us apart!"
"You know how Eleanor operates!"
"She owns judges, she owns private investigators, she will do anything to destroy me!"
Madison stepped forward, holding the blue-ribboned legal affidavit inches from Ryan’s face.
"This is a certified inmate manifest from the Federal Bureau of Prisons, Ryan."
"Inmate number 84920-079: David Allen Sinclair."
"Current location: Bastrop, Texas."
"Projected release date: November 2031."
"Would you like to call the warden?"
"The direct switchboard number is listed on page two."
Ryan slowly reached out his hand, his fingers trembling violently as he took the paper.
His eyes scanned the government seal, the inmate photograph, and the fingerprint verification blocks.
"He’s... he’s alive?" Ryan muttered, his voice cracking into a ragged whisper.
"You told me he died on the interstate outside Austin."
"You told me the funeral was private because the estate was being contested by his creditors."
"You cried in my arms for three hours at the St. Regis bar about his final words."
Vanessa pulled the sheets up to her chin, her face twisting into a mask of pure defiance.
"He might as well be dead!" she spat, dropping all pretense of gentility.
"He left me with twenty million dollars in corporate debt!"
"The feds took the house, they took the cars, they took my jewelry!"
"I had nothing!"
"Nothing!"
"And you..." she glared at Ryan with dripping contempt, "you were always pathetic, Ryan."
"You were desperate to play the white knight."
"You spent ten years pining over me while living off your wife’s trust fund."
"All I had to do was send you three nostalgic text messages and you handed me thirty thousand dollars a month!"
"You gave me everything I asked for because you wanted to prove you were bigger and richer than David ever was!"
Ryan stumbled backward, his knees buckling until he collided with the side of the wooden armoire.
"The baby..." Ryan gasped, clutching his stomach as if he had been punched.
"You told me the baby was conceived during our weekend in Montauk."
"You told me it was my child."
"You swore on your mother’s grave that I was the father."
Madison laughed, a sharp, cold sound that sliced through the room.
"The baby belongs to a club promoter named Julian Vance from Miami," Madison said, tapping the third page of the file.
"The same Julian Vance who was registered under your corporate hotel discount at the Soho Grand for the past six weeks while you were paying the bill."
"Vanessa was seeing him every Friday night while you were attending Bennett Industrial board meetings."
Ryan looked as if his entire nervous system had collapsed.
He turned toward Vanessa, his hands shaking so violently he dropped the legal papers.
"You used me," he whispered.
"You used my money."
"You made me abandon my daughter while she was dying in the delivery room."
"I didn't make you do anything, Ryan," Vanessa sneered, her voice cold, cruel, and completely devoid of remorse.
"You chose to leave your wife."
"You chose to steal her room."
"You chose to play the hero because your pathetic ego couldn't handle being second place to the Bennett family."
"Now get these guards out of my face."
"I have a transfer to arrange."
The administrative supervisor stepped forward, checking her watch.
"Orderlies, move the patient."
"We need this suite sanitized and cleared for an incoming private admission."
Two male nurses wheeled the gurney forward, unceremoniously transferring Vanessa from the luxury mattress onto the standard vinyl cot.
Her silk robe dragged against the dirty wheel hub, staining the hem with grease.
Ryan stood in the corner, invisible, destroyed, and completely alone.
I tapped the nurse on the shoulder.
May you like
"Take me to see Maya," I said, turning my back on the wreckage.
"We’re done here."
