Chapter 8 - Splintering Alliances
“Four... four million dollars?” Vanessa stammered, her voice shaking violently. “You... you can’t sue me! I don’t have four million dollars! Daniel, tell them! Tell them they can’t sue your wife!”
Daniel looked at the lawyer, then at Richard, and finally at Vanessa. For the first time in his life, there was no pity in his eyes. There was only pure, unadulterated horror.
“You lied in the video,” Daniel whispered, stepping back from her. “You told everyone Mom abused you. You didn't mention that you tried to steal her suite. You didn't mention the eleven thousand dollars you charged to my maxed-out card!”
“I did it for us!” Vanessa shrieked, tears of genuine panic streaming down her face now. “I did it to get leverage! Why are you turning on me?!”
Before Daniel could answer, Vanessa’s phone began buzzing frantically on the table. It wasn’t a notification from a fan. It was an incoming call from Chloe.
Vanessa snatched it up, desperate for an ally. “Chloe! Thank God, Chloe, you need to—”
“Vanessa, you psycho!” Chloe’s voice screamed through the speaker so loudly that everyone in the room could hear it. “What the hell did you post?! The resort’s legal team just sent formal letters to my employer and Brittany’s agency! They said because we were named as co-conspirators in the unauthorized charges, our names will be added to a corporate fraud affidavit if we don’t clear our names!”
“Chloe, wait—”
“Don’t ‘Chloe’ me! Brittany is already posting a video exposing everything! She’s telling everyone you lied about owning the suite, that you forced us to order the caviar, and that you haven’t paid your share of our trip to Cabo last year! We’re done, Vanessa! Delete that post or my father’s attorney will sue you too!”
The line went dead with a harsh click.
Vanessa stared at the phone as if it had turned into a venomous snake. Her phone buzzed again. A notification popped up from her agency: *Representation Terminated Due to Violation of Morality Clause.*
Then another notification: *Account Suspended Pending Investigation.*
Her entire digital world—the fragile house of cards she had spent six years building on vanity and borrowed luxury—was imploding within seconds.
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Richard stepped forward, checking his pocket watch. “You have twenty-one minutes remaining, Mrs. Whitmore. If the retraction is not uploaded by eight o’clock, Mr. Vance will electronically file the summons.”
Vanessa collapsed onto the annex bed, sobbing hysterically into her hands.
