Chapter 6 - The Fall of Greenwich
The chaotic scenes following the press conference played out across national television networks within hours. Cameras captured the exact moment Connecticut State Police led Thomas and Margaret Bennett out of Mercer Tower in handcuffs, surrounded by a wall of blinding photo flashes and shouting journalists.
By the next morning, the headline on the cover of the Wall Street Journal read: "THE BENNETT DECEPTION: HOW A CONNECTICUT DYNASTY FRAMED THEIR OWN DAUGHTER."
I sat in the morning room of Julian's penthouse, watching the news coverage on a quiet television monitor. Across the screen, footage played of federal agents carrying box after box of financial documents out of Bennett Enterprises’ headquarters in Hartford. The company was officially in liquidation.
"You're quiet," Julian said, walking in with two cups of fresh chamomile tea. He handed one to me and sat on the plush sofa beside me.
"It’s strange," I admitted, looking down at the steam rising from my cup. "For six years, I dreamed of the day people would know the truth. I thought I would feel ecstatic. But watching them get pulled away in handcuffs... it just feels tragic. They destroyed our entire family just to keep up appearances."
"They destroyed themselves, Claire," Julian corrected gently, taking my hand. "You didn't push them into committing financial fraud. You didn't force Ryan to gamble away millions in Vegas. All you did was stop being their shield."
A soft knock at the door interrupted us. Julian’s chief of security, a stern former secret service agent named Marcus, stepped into the room.
"Mr. Mercer, Miss Bennett," Marcus said formally. "There is a young woman downstairs in the lobby demanding to see Miss Bennett. She refuses to leave until she speaks with her."
I frowned. "Who is it?"
"Natalie Bennett," Marcus replied. "Your sister."
I looked at Julian. He gave me a supportive nod, letting me make the call.
"Let her up, Marcus," I said. "It’s time to close this chapter."
Five minutes later, Natalie burst into the room. The polished, elegant woman who had shown up in a pristine cream cashmere dress on Thanksgiving was completely gone. Her hair was unkempt, her makeup was smeared, and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. She didn't look like Greenwich royalty anymore; she looked terrified.
"Claire!" Natalie sobbed, throwing herself forward, but Marcus immediately stepped in front of her, keeping a safe five-foot distance. "Claire, please! You have to stop this! You have to tell Julian to drop the charges!"
"I didn't file the charges, Natalie," I said calmly, standing up from the sofa. "The State of Connecticut did. They forged legal documents and stole corporate funds. That's a federal crime."
"Dad is in a holding cell!" Natalie screamed, her voice cracking hysterically. "Mom is having panic attacks! They won't set bail because of the flight risk with Ryan missing! And Richard..." She paused, her voice breaking completely. "Richard is divorcing me, Claire! He took the kids and moved to his parents' house in Boston! He says he won't be associated with a family of criminals!"
I stared at my sister, waiting for a single word of regret. A single apology for how she had stood by for six years while I was forced to cook their meals, clean their floors, and swallow their abuse.
"Where were you when Mom took my college fund, Natalie?" I asked, my voice deadly quiet.
Natalie blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Where were you when I was working two jobs, sleeping three hours a night on a broken mattress in a basement apartment?" I stepped closer to her, my gaze locked onto hers. "You were buying thousand-dollar shoes with Dad's credit card. You watched me sit next to the trash cans on holidays. You never once asked if I was okay. You never once said 'Thank you, Claire, for taking the fall so our family could keep its reputation.'"
"We... we thought you were fine!" Natalie stammered, pulling back slightly. "You were always so strong, Claire! You always handled things! We didn't think—"
"You didn't care," I interrupted. "You only care now because the fire finally reached your house."
"Claire, please," Natalie wept, dropping to her knees right on the hardwood floor, clutching her hands together in desperate prayer. "I have nowhere else to go. Richard froze our joint bank accounts. The bank is repossessing my car. Just ask Julian to lend us enough money to pay off the debt. You're going to be a billionaire's wife! What is a few million dollars to him?"
Julian stepped up beside me, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "My money will never be used to fund the people who abused my wife," Julian said coldly. "Marcus, escort Mrs. Bennett out of the building."
"Claire! No! Please!" Natalie shrieked as Marcus firmly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the elevator. "You're a monster! You ruined us! You ruined your own family!"
The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off her hysterical screaming.
I took a long, deep breath, feeling a massive weight lift off my chest. The guilt that had haunted me for six years was finally, completely gone.
"Are you okay?" Julian asked softly.
I looked at the pear-cut diamond on my finger, then up into Julian's deep, steady eyes.
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"I'm better than okay," I said, a small, genuine smile forming on my face. "Where is Ryan?"
Julian’s eyes narrowed into a dark, calculated stare. "He was spotted in Las Vegas two hours ago, trying to wire money to an offshore account. My team has already alerted the local authorities. He won't make it to the airport."
