Chapter 3 - Pulling My Daughter From Hell|
Those five words dropped like a bomb right in the middle of the ballroom.
The jazz music stopped instantly. Several wine glasses shattered on the floor. The arrogant smile on Patricia’s lips froze completely. She stood up abruptly, dropping a luxury gift box to the floor.
“What... what the hell are you talking about, Margaret?” Patricia shrieked, her voice turning shrill.
Brandon slammed his glass onto a table, his face turning pale as he rushed toward me.
“Mother-in-law, are you out of your mind? The party is going great, why would you say something so reckless?”
I threw the microphone down. The feedback echoed sharply.
“Do I look like I am joking, Brandon?” I glared at the wretched son-in-law. “Every single asset and inheritance trust you planned to use to bail out the Vale family's ghost real estate company has been frozen and redirected. Not a single penny will flow into your pockets.”
The crowd of guests began whispering frantically. The elite bankers Patricia had invited were now looking at her with deep suspicion.
“You're insane! You have no right to do that!” Patricia screamed, rushing forward to grab my arm, but I shoved her away.
I turned and put my arm around Emily’s shoulders. My daughter was crying, trembling violently from shock and fear.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
“Emily, where do you think you’re going? You’re my wife!” Brandon lunged forward, grabbing Emily’s wrist with far too much force.
Without hesitation, I swung my hand and slapped Brandon across the face. A sharp crack echoed through the luxury room.
May you like
“Take your filthy hands off my daughter. If you ever touch her again, I will call the police.”
I escorted Emily out of the ballroom, leaving behind Patricia’s hysterical screams and the collapse of a fake family.
