“I already did,” I said. “The police know you are here. Any further attempt to enter will be treated as trespassing. And yes, they’ve been sent a copy of every financial irregularity, including the flights, the credit charges, and your ‘trip’ funded by my account.”
Felicity whimpered, clutching her bag like it could shield her from the truth. Dominic went pale, realizing that the luxury he flaunted had been nothing but borrowed power, entirely under my control.
I smiled faintly, standing by the balcony rail, looking down at the small, defeated family that had thought they could intimidate me. My son cooed from the crib below, and for the first time in seven days, I felt an ounce of peace.
“This house is mine,” I said softly. “And while you were enjoying someone else’s vacation, I made sure the person who truly matters—the baby—was safe. All of your threats, your arrogance… it’s over.”
Dominic sank to his knees, gripping the door. Gertrude’s eyes glistened with disbelief. Felicity crouched beside him, too stunned to speak.
I pressed one last button on my phone. The cameras recorded every word, every reaction. “Remember this,” I whispered, more to them than to myself. “Nobody ever gets to control me—or my family—again.”
And as the sun dipped behind the horizon, I watched them retreat, defeated and humiliated, leaving behind nothing but the echoes of their own greed.
Do you want me to continue with Part 3?
“Lock both doors, Dominic. Let her give birth alone so she doesn’t ruin our trip,” my mother-in-law ordered while I was doubled over in pain at 38 weeks pregnant, and they were leaving for Maui with suitcases paid for by me. Seven days later, they came back thinking I would still be waiting in silence… but one look at the front door was enough to understand they had crossed a line with no return.
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