Chapter 7 - The Uncashed Check
The cathedral fell so completely silent that the soft hiss of the altar candles sounded like escaping steam.
Between Althea’s manicured fingers sat the original cashier's check for twelve million dollars, issued two years ago by Don Roman Montecillo’s private treasury. The corners were crisp, untouched by time, and completely unendorsed.
"You thought twelve million dollars was enough to purchase my silence, Don Roman," Althea said, her voice dropping into an icy, crystalline register that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "You thought you were buying the erasure of a peasant girl who dared to marry into your sacred lineage. You told me I was barren, uncultured, and disposable."
Don Roman gripped his carved mahogany cane so fiercely that his knuckles turned the color of parchment. His chest heaved beneath his bespoke velvet vest. "How... how do you have that? My accounts cleared those offshore provisions months ago..."
"Your accountants cleared a phantom transaction because your financial division has been drowning in defaulted loans for eighteen months," Althea answered smoothly, tilting her head. "I never cashed your insult, Don Roman. Twelve million dollars wouldn't cover the quarterly maintenance on my children's trust fund."
Christian stepped forward, his face drained of every drop of color. His tuxedo, tailored to perfection, seemed suddenly too large for him. "Althea... what are you talking about? What is *The Valerius Group*?"
"The consortium that currently holds ninety-four percent of Montecillo Marine Logistics' subordinated debt," Althea replied, locking eyes with her ex-husband. "The entity that approved your liquidity bailout last Tuesday. Did you truly believe a Swiss private equity giant stepped in out of charity, Christian? You were on your knees before my board of directors while you were rehearsing your vows to your concubine."
Vanessa shrieked, a high, strangled sound of pure venom. "She’s lying! She’s an orphan from a backwater district! Christian, call the police! Have this fraud dragged out of here! Look at her—she probably rented those guards with stolen money!"
"Silence, Vanessa!" Don Roman roared, though his voice cracked at the end. His eyes never left the four toddlers standing beside Althea. His gaze fell upon the girl, trembling not with anger, but with an ancient, terrifying realization.
May you like
"Those children..." Don Roman whispered, his breath catching in his throat. "Whose children are those, Althea?"
Althea smiled, a slow, merciless curve of her crimson lips. "You had your doctors declare me sterile, Don Roman. But God has a rather vicious sense of humor. Meet your legitimate grandchildren."
