Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
By Sunday evening, the Collins family was in a state of absolute ruin.
Martin’s company phones were ringing off the hook with angry calls from subcontractors who hadn't been paid. David’s company car had been repossessed right out of his driveway in broad daylight, in front of all his neighbors. Thomas was locked in his room, drinking heavily, terrified of the police showing up at any moment.
Claire sat in her empty living room, looking at the closet where my clothes used to hang. I had indeed sent a courier, who had systematically and quietly packed every single item belonging to me and Sophie.
She felt a strange, hollow sensation in her chest. For eight years, she had taken me for granted. She had assumed that no matter how much her family belittled me, I would always be there, cooking dinner, fixing the leak in the roof, and looking at her with adoration. But now, she realized she had no leverage.
Suddenly, Martin barged into her house, looking energized for the first time in days.
"Claire! Get your coat! We're going to the Whitaker headquarters!"
Claire blinked. "What? Why?"
"Marcus finally called me back," Martin said, his eyes wild with hope. "He said the board of directors has called an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning at nine. He said the CEO himself wants to meet with all primary stakeholders to discuss the future of the logistics contracts. This is our chance! If I can get in front of the CEO, I can explain that this was all a misunderstanding! I can beg for our contract back!"
"But why do I need to go?" Claire asked.
"Because the CEO’s legal team requested that all family members holding shares or positions in Collins & Sons be present," Martin said. "You own ten percent of my company, Claire. We need everyone there to show solidarity. Dress in your best power suit. We have to look like royalty."
Claire’s heart hammered. A meeting with the billionaire owner of Whitaker Construction. This was her chance to step into the high-society world she had always craved—the world she felt my "handyman" status had dragged her away from.
"I’ll get ready," Claire said, a smug smile returning to her face. "Let me just call Daniel's lawyer first. I want to make sure that loser knows he’s getting absolutely nothing from our divorce before I step into a room with real power."
She dialed my attorney's office, but was met with a polite, cold receptionist. "Mrs. Whitaker, your husband’s legal representation will meet you at the Whitaker corporate headquarters tomorrow morning. All matters regarding the divorce and asset division will be settled there."
May you like
Claire laughed. "At Whitaker headquarters? Why? Does Daniel think he can get a job there to pay for his alimony?"
"We will see you tomorrow at nine, Mrs. Whitaker," the receptionist said and hung up.
