Chapter 2 - THE HOUSE THEY ENVIED
Bonnie reached the gate just before it locked.
“You bought this?” she demanded. “With whose money?”
I almost laughed.
She assumed money simply appeared because her son deserved it.
“My money,” I said.
Caden lowered his voice. “Taylor, open the gate. We need to talk inside.”
“No. Mom needs a doctor.”
My mother touched my arm. “I’m fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
Donovan pointed at Caden. “Daddy told Grandma she had to work because Nana Bonnie was tired.”
Caden flinched.
Bonnie snapped, “He’s four. He doesn’t understand anything.”
“He understood enough to know Grandma was hurting.”
I shut the door.
The mansion had never been meant as a secret weapon. I bought it as an investment during a downturn, then renovated it for my mother because I wanted her closer to us. She had refused to move in, saying the place was “too fancy for one old woman.” So I kept it furnished and empty.
That night, it became a shelter.
A concierge physician examined Mom and confirmed what I feared: severe inflammation, dehydration, and a blood-pressure spike. She needed rest, medication, and absolutely no heavy lifting.
I put Donovan to bed beside her.
At 11:14 p.m., my phone began lighting up.
Caden: TURN THE POWER BACK ON.
Caden: MOM IS HAVING CHEST PAIN.
Caden: THIS IS CHILDISH.
Then Bonnie texted me.
You can’t lock a husband out of marital property.
I stared at that sentence.
Marital property.
She did not talk like a lawyer.
I opened the security app for our old house. The interior cameras had been offline for months because Caden said they made him uncomfortable.
But the exterior camera was still recording.
At 12:03 a.m., a black Lexus pulled into the driveway.
A man stepped out carrying a leather briefcase.
I knew him.
His name was Marcus Vale.
May you like
He was a divorce attorney.
And he was Caden’s oldest friend.
