Chapter 6
While Eleanor met with Marcus Vance in his leather-lined downtown office to codify the total disinheritance of Thomas Vance, a frantic emergency summit was taking place fifty miles away in Clara’s suburban living room. Thomas sat on the edge of the cream-colored sofa, his head buried in his hands, while his mother paced back and forth across the hardwood floor like a caged animal, her phone clutched tightly in her manicured hand.
“Are you completely out of your mind, Thomas?” Clara shrieked, whirling around to glare down at her trembling son. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? That woman holds the keys to every trust fund, every property deed, and every safety net this family has relied on for twenty years!”
“It was just supposed to be a low-key get-together!” Thomas muttered defensively, refusing to meet his mother’s furious gaze. “Brenda brought some of her college friends over, things got a bit loud, and then Aunt Eleanor just happened to show up at the worst possible second. It’s not fair! She spends half the year traveling anyway; she doesn’t even need the beach house!”
“Need it?” Clara scoffed, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief. “It’s not about needing it, Thomas! It’s about optics, inheritance, and the fact that you managed to alienate the single wealthiest person in our entire bloodline because you couldn't control a bunch of drunken slackers!”
Brenda, who had been sitting quietly in the armchair near the fireplace, crossed her arms defensively and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Stop acting like she’s some kind of mafia boss. She’s just an old lady who needs to be put in a home anyway. If she didn't want people using her house, she shouldn't have left it looking like a five-star resort.”
Clara whipped her head around, her eyes flashing with pure rage at the younger woman. “You! This is entirely your fault! You and your loud-mouthed friends trashed a property worth over two million dollars, and now you’re sitting here acting like a victim? Get out of my house before I call the police myself!”
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Brenda flushed red, uncrossing her arms and standing up abruptly. “Fine! I didn't want to deal with this crazy family drama anyway. Thomas, call me when you grow a spine and figure out how to get your inheritance back.” With a sharp click of her heels, Brenda stormed out of the house, slamming the front door hard enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall.
Thomas shrank back against the sofa as Clara turned her blazing attention back to him. “Listen to me very carefully, Thomas. You are going to call your aunt, you are going to get down on your knees figuratively if you have to, and you are going to beg for her forgiveness. Because if she cuts us out permanently, we lose everything.”
