Chapter 8 - The Bitter Taste of Poverty
Far away from the luxurious,
glass-walled boardrooms of Obsidian Holdings,
Evelyn Sterling was experiencing a living,
breathing nightmare in the filthy,
roach-infested bathroom of a cheap motel.
She stared at her reflection in the cracked,
dirty mirror,
horrified by the haggard,
exhausted woman staring back at her.
Her skin,
usually glowing from expensive weekly spa treatments,
was pale and deeply lined,
and her designer clothes were stiff with dried mud and smelling faintly of garbage.
Daniel was sitting on the lumpy,
stained mattress in the main room,
staring blankly at the static on the ancient television,
his spirit completely and utterly broken.
They had spent their first night sleeping on a cold,
hard park bench,
huddled together for warmth,
before Evelyn finally remembered a small,
emergency diamond ring she kept in the lining of her purse.
She had marched into a shady,
neon-lit pawn shop early that morning,
expecting to walk out with at least twenty thousand dollars to secure them a decent hotel and a hot meal.
Instead,
the gruff,
cigar-smoking pawnbroker had laughed in her face,
tossing the ring back across the counter.
"It's cubic zirconia,
lady,"
he had grunted,
"fake diamonds,
cheap metal,
I'll give you fifty bucks for it,
take it or leave it."
Evelyn had almost fainted from the shock,
realizing that the "priceless family heirloom" Daniel had proudly given her for her birthday was a cheap,
worthless fake,
purchased because Daniel was too busy spending my money on his mistresses to buy his mother real jewelry.
She took the fifty dollars,
swallowing her massive,
bloated pride,
and rented this miserable,
depressing motel room for the night.
"Daniel,"
Evelyn snapped,
walking out of the bathroom and glaring at her defeated son,
"stop staring at that broken television and do something,
we are starving,
and I refuse to eat out of a vending machine again!"
Daniel didn't even blink,
his eyes locked on the fuzzy screen,
his voice a low,
lifeless monotone.
"What do you want me to do,
Mother?
I have no money,
no company,
no friends,
and my reputation is completely destroyed,
I am ruined."
Evelyn marched over to the bed,
grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him violently.
"You are a Sterling!"
she screamed,
spit flying from her lips,
"you are a brilliant businessman,
you just need to go down to that office,
demand to see that wretched,
ungrateful woman,
and force her to give us our lives back!"
Daniel laughed,
a dry,
humorless sound that chilled Evelyn to the bone.
"Force her?"
he repeated,
shaking his head slowly,
"Mother,
you still don't understand,
she is a billionaire,
she owns politicians,
she owns judges,
she played us for three entire years without batting an eye,
we are nothing but insects to her now."
"I refuse to accept that!"
Evelyn shrieked,
pacing frantically across the dirty carpet,
her mind desperately trying to formulate a plan to regain her stolen luxury.
"She is just a woman,
a weak,
pathetic girl who used to serve me tea,
there must be a way to break her,
there must be a way to get my mansion back!"
Suddenly,
a loud,
aggressive knock echoed on the flimsy wooden door of the motel room,
making them both jump in terror.
Daniel cautiously approached the door,
peering through the dirty peephole,
his heart pounding frantically in his chest.
Standing in the hallway was a tall,
intimidating man in a sharp black suit,
holding a crisp,
gold-embossed envelope in his gloved hands.
Daniel slowly unlocked the door,
opening it just a crack,
ready to slam it shut if the man tried to attack them.
"Mr. Sterling,"
the man said in a deep,
monotone voice,
sliding the envelope through the narrow gap,
"a personal delivery from the CEO of Obsidian Holdings."
Before Daniel could ask a single question,
the man turned around and walked away,
disappearing down the dark,
flickering hallway.
Daniel closed the door,
staring at the thick,
expensive envelope in his trembling hands,
the golden seal glittering mockingly under the cheap motel lights.
Evelyn snatched it from his grasp,
tearing it open with desperate,
frantic fingers,
praying for a check,
a settlement,
or a legal compromise.
Instead,
she pulled out two highly exclusive,
VIP tickets to the most prestigious charity gala of the year,
the exact same gala where Evelyn had publicly humiliated me just forty-eight hours ago.
Attached to the tickets was a small,
handwritten note on personalized stationery,
written in my elegant,
flowing handwriting.
"Daniel and Evelyn,
please join me tonight for a final celebration,
perhaps we can come to an understanding regarding your future,
do not be late."
Evelyn's eyes widened,
a massive,
delusional smile spreading across her face.
"Do you see this,
Daniel?"
she laughed triumphantly,
waving the tickets in the air,
"she is cracking,
she misses you,
she feels guilty for throwing us out,
this is our chance to get everything back!"
Daniel looked at the tickets,
a small,
foolish spark of hope igniting in his desperate heart,
May you like
completely unaware that they were walking straight into the most devastating,
public trap I had ever designed.
