Chapter 10 - The Architect Revealed
|
“Samuel!” Ivan yelled, pushing past the security guard and charging toward his mother’s long-time lawyer. “Samuel, thank God! You need to fix this nightmare immediately!”
Samuel Brooks stopped in the middle of the polished marble lobby, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. He looked down at Ivan with absolute, unyielding coldness.
“There is nothing to fix, Ivan,” Samuel stated calmly. “The law is functioning precisely as intended.”
“Are you insane?” Ivan shrieked, grabbing Samuel’s sleeve. “You froze my accounts! You served me at my own wedding! Brenda’s father is going to sue me into oblivion! Tell your team to drop these ridiculous claims!”
Samuel stepped back, cleanly brushing Ivan’s hand off his sleeve as if brushing away a piece of lint.
“I do not work for you, Ivan,” Samuel said, his voice echoing authoritatively across the lobby. “I have never worked for you.”
Brenda stepped forward, her eyes wide with desperate anger. “Then who do you work for? Who is paying you to destroy my husband’s life?”
Samuel looked at Brenda, a sharp, sardonic smile touching the corner of his lips.
“I represent the sole founder, chief executive, and controlling shareholder of Whitmore Global Capital,” Samuel revealed smoothly. “The woman who built the foundation of every single asset you thought you owned.”
Ivan’s heart was hammering so hard against his ribs he felt like he was having a heart attack.
“Who?” Ivan begged, his voice dropping into a high-pitched whimper. “Who is the owner? Tell me!”
Samuel leaned in slightly, staring dead into Ivan’s bloodshot eyes.
“Her name is Clara Whitmore.”
Silence descended upon the lobby like a ton of lead.
Ivan stared at the attorney, his brain refusing to process the words. “Clara... Clara Whitmore? My... my mother?”
“Your adopted mother,” Samuel corrected fiercely. “The woman you threw out of your wedding yesterday because she didn't fit your aesthetic.”
May you like
Brenda let out a choked gasp, covering her mouth with both hands. “No... no, that’s impossible! She’s poor! She drives a ten-year-old sedan!”
“She lives below her means because she values humility—a trait she spent twenty-five years failing to teach her ungrateful son,” Samuel replied ruthlessly. “And now, Ivan, she has requested your presence.”
