Chapter 11 - Sisterly Blood
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By noon, the legal storm was fully raging.
I sat at Daniel’s old desk—now my desk—reviewing the restructuring strategy with Evelyn Shaw when my phone buzzed on the blotter.
The caller ID displayed a name I hadn't answered in weeks: Vanessa.
I let it ring three times before sliding the green button to speakerphone.
“Claire?” Vanessa’s voice came sobbing through the speaker, breathless and terrified. “Claire, please... please don't hang up!”
I didn't say a word, letting the silence stretch between us.
“Claire, I’m so sorry,” she wept hysterically. “I was foolish! Daniel lied to me! He manipulated me into believing you were abusing him, that you hated our family, that you were keeping him trapped! He made me think he loved me!”
“Are you done, Vanessa?” I asked calmly.
“I’m your sister, Claire!” she sobbed harder. “We share the same blood! You can't let him ruin my life! The bank locked my credit cards this morning! The apartment leasing office called and said Daniel’s check bounced, and they’re filing for eviction! I have nowhere to go! I’m pregnant with your niece or nephew!”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk.
“You didn't care about blood eight months ago when you were sleeping with my husband while I was sitting in a fertility clinic, Vanessa,” I said, my tone as cold as winter stone.
“I made a mistake!” she wailed. “Please, Claire! Just give me enough money for an apartment! Just fifty thousand dollars! That’s nothing to you!”
“You made a choice,” I corrected her softly. “You wanted Daniel’s life. You wanted his luxury. You wanted my husband. Now you have him. Enjoy your prize.”
“Claire, wait—!”
I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow from across the table. “Hard cold, Claire. I like it.”
“It’s not cold, Evelyn,” I said, looking out the window at the city below. “It’s consequences. My sister needs to learn what they feel like.”
May you like
Before Evelyn could reply, my office door swung open, and my chief security officer stepped inside, looking grim.
“Ms. Vance,” he said, “we have a situation in the main lobby. Daniel Mercer is downstairs. He’s causing a scene, demanding to see you, and he refuses to leave.”
