Chapter 5 - Rachel Palmer’s House of Glass
While Arthur Vance prepared the injunctions,
across town in the affluent enclave of Roland Park,
Rachel Palmer was pouring herself a cup of imported Kenyan coffee in her sprawling kitchen,
her daughter Sophie was sitting at the marble island,
nibbling on a blueberry muffin and playing with a silver charm bracelet Grant had gifted her the previous afternoon,
Rachel’s phone buzzed on the counter,
displaying Grant Whitmore’s caller ID,
she swiped to answer with a smug smile,
expecting the usual frantic whispers of a man caught between two worlds,
“Grant,
darling,
why are you whispering?” Rachel purred,
“Is Mara still throwing a tantrum?”
“Rachel,
it’s a disaster,” Grant’s voice was breathless,
teetering on the edge of panic,
“Mara knows about the blood transfer,
she’s talking about divorce,
and Vance & Sterling just slapped an emergency freeze on our corporate and personal accounts.”
The smile vanished from Rachel’s face,
her coffee cup halting halfway to her lips,
“An asset freeze?
How could she?
She doesn't even know corporate law.”
“She doesn't have to,” Grant snapped,
“Vance knows every judge in Maryland,
they’ve locked down the operating capital for the upcoming wing expansion at Whitmore Heart.”
“You have to fix it,
Grant,” Rachel’s voice hardened,
the sweet facade melting away to reveal the calculating opportunist underneath,
“My clinic funding,
Sophie’s follow-up surgeries,
our lifestyle—it all depends on Whitmore capital remaining liquid.”
“I can't just wave a wand and make an injunction disappear,
Rachel!” Grant shouted over the line,
“My wife has completely checked out,
she won't even take my calls,
she’s at the hospital with Eli,
and she looks ready to burn my entire legacy to the ground.”
“Then you should have managed your wife years ago,” Rachel hissed,
slamming her cup down so hard the coffee sloshed over the rim,
“I gave up my youth for you,
Grant,
and if you let that woman strip you of your assets,
I swear I will take Sophie and make sure you never step foot in our lives again.”
The line went dead with a sharp click,
leaving Grant staring at his phone in his empty office at Whitmore Tower,
May you like
realizing for the first time that his mistress wasn't a refuge from his storm,
but the very lightning rod that had drawn it down upon him.
