Chapter 6 - The Rage of the Architect
After my shift ended,
I drove to my father’s estate in Lincoln Park.
The grand brick house stood as a symbol of old money and genuine power,
unlike the crumbling facade of Oak Park.
My father,
Thomas,
was waiting for me in his study,
a glass of scotch sitting untouched on his desk.
He looked up as I entered,
his eyes instantly fixing on the bruise on my left jawline.
The air in the room grew cold as his expression shifted from warmth to absolute fury.
"Who did this?"
he asked,
his voice dangerously quiet,
the tone he used before destroying a competitor.
"Preston,"
I said,
walking over to sit in the leather chair opposite him.
"This morning,
over breakfast,
because I didn't want to cook a second meal for his sister."
Thomas stood up,
his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room.
"I told you that family was desperate,
Maya,"
he said,
his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his desk.
"They are drowning in debt,
and they looked at you like a life raft."
"I know,
Dad,"
I replied,
leaning my head back against the leather.
"But the life raft just sprang a leak,
and I've cut off all their funding."
"Good,"
he nodded,
the anger in his eyes burning bright.
"Arthur called me,
the paperwork will be ready by sunrise."
"I want them ruined,
Maya,"
he continued,
looking out the window at the manicured gardens.
"Not just divorced,
but completely exposed for the parasites they are."
"Preston’s marketing firm relies on contracts from three of my subsidiaries,"
he revealed,
a dark smile appearing on his face.
"I will terminate those agreements by tomorrow afternoon,
citing a breach of corporate ethics."
"That will bankrupt him within a month,"
I noted,
feeling no sympathy for the man who had struck me.
"He chose this path the moment he raised his hand,"
Thomas stated firmly.
"He thought he was marrying into wealth he could control,
but he forgot that the wealth belongs to people who know how to fight."
I stayed at my father’s house that night,
feeling safe within the walls of my childhood home.
The storm was raging outside,
May you like
but inside,
the blueprints for Preston’s destruction were being finalized.
