Chapter 8 - The Fall of the Matriarch
Three weeks after the boardroom takeover, the fall of the Bennett family reached its absolute climax.
Evelyn Bennett sat alone in the grand drawing room of her Park Avenue duplex. The velvet curtains were drawn tight against the afternoon sun, the expensive oil paintings had been removed from the walls by court-ordered asset assessors, and the massive crystal chandelier hung dim and unlit.
The heavy front door clicked open.
I walked into the quiet apartment, escorted by Caleb and a court-appointed federal marshal.
Evelyn didn't turn her head. She sat in her velvet armchair, staring at the empty marble fireplace, holding a faded photograph of Grant as a young boy playing polo.
"Are you here to gloat, Claire?" Evelyn asked, her voice hollow, stripped of all its former aristocratic arrogance. "Are you happy now that you've reduced my family to a national joke?"
"I didn't reduce your family to anything, Evelyn," I said, stopping near the center of the room. "Your son’s arrogance and your greed did that all by yourselves."
"He was destined for greatness!" Evelyn suddenly snapped, turning her pale face toward me, her eyes bloodshot. "He was a Bennett! We built this city! You were just a quiet girl from upstate with a decent trust fund! You should have been honored to carry his child!"
"I was honored to carry a child," I corrected her calmly. "I was just stupid enough to believe your son was a man worth sharing her with."
Caleb stepped forward, laying an eviction notice onto the side table next to her empty tea glass.
"Mrs. Bennett," Caleb said formally. "This property was listed as collateral for the fraudulent Singapore line of credit. The federal marshals have seized the deed. You have forty-eight hours to pack your personal clothing and vacate the premises."
Evelyn stared at the paper, then looked up at me with pure, poisonous hatred. "Where is Grant?"
"Grant is currently in federal custody at the Metropolitan Correctional Center," I replied flatly. "His bail was set at ten million dollars. Since all his personal accounts are frozen under the corporate bankruptcy proceeding, he couldn't post bond."
Evelyn let out a choked, desperate cry, covering her face with her trembling, wrinkled hands. "He can't survive in prison, Claire... please... he's soft... he's my only son..."
"He should have thought about that before he forged bank documents and tried to steal my child's future, Evelyn," I said, turning my back on her and walking toward the door.
"Claire!" Evelyn shrieked behind me. "What about the baby?! When will I see my grandchild?!"
May you like
I stopped at the threshold, holding the brass door handle, but I didn't look back.
"You won't, Evelyn," I said softly. "You told everyone at the conservatory that you couldn't wait to see if the Bennett name got its son. Well, the Bennett name didn't get anything. The line ends with Grant."
