Chapter 6
"I sent sixty thousand dollars a month to your household account in Denver, Mark," Richard continued, walking around the perimeter of his trembling son. "Every single month since Elena died. Where did that money go?"
Mark’s tongue darted nervously over his split lip. "Living expenses, Dad. The mortgage in Cherry Creek, private security, club memberships—"
"Show him the ledgers, Frank," Richard said without raising his voice.
From the row of bodyguards, a slender man in a charcoal suit stepped forward, holding an open laptop. Frank, Richard’s chief financial auditor, turned the screen toward Mark and Claudia.
"The Denver account was drained every four weeks, Don Richard," Frank reported in a flat, clinical tone. "Two hundred thousand dollars was wired to an offshore casino in Macau last Tuesday to cover Mark’s high-stakes baccarat debts. Another eighty thousand went to a boutique jeweler in Aspen for Mrs. Claudia’s emerald necklace. The total expenditures for Noah’s food, clothing, and medical care over the past eight months amount to exactly four hundred and twelve dollars."
Claudia gasped, backing away until her shoulder hit the stone fireplace. "That’s a lie! Frank is falsifying the records! He’s always hated us!"
"Frank doesn't make mistakes with decimal points, Claudia," Richard said, stepping into her space until she had to crane her neck back against the masonry. "You starved my flesh and blood so you could wear emeralds to my birthday dinner."
"He isn't Elena!" Claudia spat suddenly, cornered like a wild animal, her polished veneer peeling away completely. "You only care about that boy because he looks like her! You never loved Mark! You always favored your dead daughter-in-law's family! Why should my household suffer to feed a brat who reminds you of your past?!"
Richard did not raise his hand. He simply reached out and caught the heavy emerald necklace around Claudia’s neck with his index finger.
With a single, effortless jerk of his massive arm, he snapped the gold chain.
Diamonds and emeralds scattered across the hardwood floor like hail, pinging against the stone hearth. Claudia shrieked, clutching her bare throat.
"Elena was a saint who died giving this family an heir," Richard said, his voice dropping into an icy, unyielding cadence. "You are a vulture who picked the meat off her bones."
He turned back to Mark.
"And you," Richard murmured, looking at his son with pure, unadulterated contempt. "You let this creature abuse your own child. A man who cannot protect his own blood is not a man. He is a parasite."
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Mark fell to his knees on the rug, weeping through his broken jaw. "Dad, please! I'm sorry! I’ll send her away! I’ll divorce her tomorrow! Just don't cut me out! Don't leave me with nothing!"
"Divorce her?" Richard scoffed, a dark, humorless smirk touching his lips. "You think this is a civil matter, Mark? You think you get to hire lawyers and negotiate a settlement?"
