Chapter 7 - Chloe’s True Colors
The master bedroom was a scene of frantic, undignified chaos.
Large designer suitcases lay open on the king-sized bed. Chloe was throwing clothes indiscriminately—cashmere sweaters, silk blouses, three-thousand-dollar shoes—weeping hysterically as she pulled jewelry boxes from her vanity drawers.
"Get the bags, Julian! Don't just stand there like an idiot! Get my Birkin bags from the closet!"
Julian stood in the center of the vast walk-in closet, staring at rows of custom-tailored suits, his mind completely blank. His phone was buzzing continuously in his robe pocket.
He pulled it out. It was his father-in-law, Richard De Witt.
Julian answered with trembling fingers. "Richard... Richard, listen to me—"
"Julian, what in the name of God is happening?" De Witt’s voice boomed through the receiver, cold, aristocratic, and merciless. "First Western just called my office. They told me the joint development bond we co-signed for your media fund has been called due to a cross-default from Vance Infrastructure! They’ve frozen my secondary operating liquidity!"
"Richard, it’s an administrative issue with my mother, we’re resolving it—"
"Your mother?" De Witt interrupted, his voice dripping with venom. "I just spoke with Marcus Vance. He told me the whole sordid story. You assaulted your mother last night? A seventy-year-old woman? Have you lost your goddamn mind?"
"Richard, she insulted me in front of my guests! She brought some piece of junk—"
"I don't give a damn about your junk, Julian! I care about my exposure! Margaret Vance is the most powerful infrastructure contractor south of the Bay Area. She has city council members who owe their careers to her. She has the building trades in her pocket. Do you have any idea what she will do to my firm if this debt isn't settled?"
"Richard, please, Chloe and I need a place to stay—"
"Do not bring my daughter anywhere near my house," De Witt said coldly. "Chloe will come home alone. My attorneys are already drafting the separation papers. If your name is attached to a single asset my daughter touches, we will sue you into the Stone Age."
The line clicked dead.
Julian dropped the phone onto the plush carpet.
Chloe came storming into the closet, clutching an armful of designer purses. When she saw Julian standing still, she threw a heavy leather tote bag directly at his chest.
"You fraud!" she screamed, tears cutting dark tracks through her mascara. "You absolute, pathetic fraud! You let me believe we were billionaires! You let me introduce you to my family as a venture capitalist! You’re nothing! You’re just an errand boy living on an allowance from his mommy!"
"Watch your mouth, Chloe!" Julian barked, stepping toward her. "I made those deals! I built that firm!"
"With her money!" Chloe shrieked, backing away toward the door. "With her guarantees! Look at you! You're thirty years old and you don't even own the shirt on your back! Don't you dare come near me! Don't you dare!"
"Ten minutes remaining!" a deputy called from the bedroom door, his tone utterly indifferent. "Three bags each, folks. Let's move."
Chloe grabbed two large duffels and her handbag, not looking back once. "I'm calling an Uber. If you ever contact me again, Julian, my father will make sure you spend whatever life you have left in a state penitentiary."
May you like
She marched down the hallway, her designer slippers slapping against the marble floor, leaving Julian standing alone in the cavernous, emptying closet.
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