Chapter 2 - Unraveling the Prodigal Son
Olivia was the first to break down. The arrogant, icy posture she had maintained since airport arrival vanished instantly, replaced by sharp panic. She turned to Adrian, her voice rising in pitch.
“Adrian, what is she talking about?” Olivia demanded, holding Noah tightly. “You told me this estate was worth four million dollars! You told me your mother’s trust fund was waiting for you the second we stepped off the plane! You said we were moving into this mansion!”
“Quiet, Olivia!” Adrian yelled, sweeping his arm across his brow, which was now beaded with cold sweat. “She’s bluffing! A judge will throw this video out in five minutes! I’m hiring the best estate lawyers in Manhattan tomorrow!”
“With what money, Adrian?” I asked, leaning back against the edge of the mahogany desk.
Adrian whipped his head toward me, anger flaring in his dark eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said, with what money are you hiring lawyers?” I picked up a second sheaf of documents from the folder. “Did you really think I spent three years just sitting by your mother’s bed without paying attention to the world outside? When you stopped sending money for Margaret’s care after five months, I started looking into your business dealings in London.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. The luxury watch on his wrist suddenly looked less like a symbol of wealth and more like a desperate mask.
“Your grand venture in London failed within six months,” I revealed, watching his face crumble piece by piece. “You lost your investors’ capital on high-risk commercial real estate. You’ve been living on credit lines, personal loans, and eventually, on Olivia’s family money, promising them that your rich mother’s estate in New Jersey would cover all your debts once she passed.”
Olivia gasped, backing away from Adrian as if he had suddenly caught fire. “Adrian... is this true? The investments in Dubai? The tech startup shares? You told my father you were liquidating European assets!”
“Don’t listen to her!” Adrian pleaded, reaching out toward Olivia, but she pulled away. “Olivia, baby, listen to me. Rebecca is lying! She’s trying to destroy us out of jealousy because you gave me a son and she couldn’t!”
“Don't drag your child into your financial fraud, Adrian,” I said sternly. “I have the bank records right here. When Margaret’s medical bills exceeded thirty thousand dollars a month, I didn’t just sit here. I built my freelance business into a full-scale digital branding firm. I hired seven employees. I earned every penny that kept your mother comfortable in her final years, while you were drinking champagne in Mayfair on borrowed money.”
I tapped the table with my pen. “You owe over six hundred thousand dollars to private lenders in London, Adrian. And they’ve already filed judgments against you in foreign court. The moment you step into a bank here in the States, your accounts will be frozen.”
Olivia stared at Adrian in complete horror. “You broke? You’re completely broke? You dragged me across the Atlantic, made me leave my family in London, promising me a life in a historic mansion, and you have nothing?!”
“Olivia, please!” Adrian begged, his suave demeanor completely pulverized. “The house is mine! We can contest the will! My mother was sick!”
“Her medical records are flawless, Adrian,” I interrupted. “And Mr. Vance, who happens to be the head of the state bar association's ethics committee, personally witnessed every signature. If you attempt to challenge this will, I will file a counterclaim for three years of back-pay for caregiver expenses, abandonment of a vulnerable adult, and financial fraud regarding the funds you embezzled from your mother’s joint account during your first month in London.”
Adrian looked at the legal documents in his hands, then at me, and finally at Olivia, who was already pulling out her smartphone with trembling fingers, dialing her parents.
“Mom?” Olivia sobbed into the phone, turning her back on Adrian entirely. “You need to send a car to pick me up. Now. Adrian lied about everything.”
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“Olivia, wait!” Adrian shouted, but she walked straight out the front door, slamming it behind her, her high heels clicking rapidly down the stone steps toward the hired SUV.
Adrian was left standing alone in the grand hallway of his childhood home—a home he no longer owned, facing a woman he had dismissed as a powerless caregiver.
