Chapter 3

The next morning, I was woken by violent banging on my door.

Frowning, I peeked through the peephole and saw Evelyn.

Her face was flushed with rage, hair disheveled, as she slammed her fists against the metal door.

"Wallis, you shameless bitch. Open the door!" she shouted. "You stole everything from us. Stopping being a coward. You've cursed our family!"

I walked calmly to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and drank it slowly, completely undisturbed.

I waited until she'd worn herself out from all the screaming and pounding. Only then did I walk over and open the door.

She stumbled forward, almost falling into the room. The second she saw me, she lunged like an angry wildcat.

"You finally opened the door. I'll tear that smirk right off your face!" she screamed.

I took a calm step back. "This is my home. Take one more step, and I'm calling the police."

My tone made her pause, but only for a second. "Your home? My son paid for all of this! How dare you keep his property after the divorce? Have you no shame?"

Then she really lost it, slumping to the floor, beating her thighs, and wailing loud enough for the whole building to hear. "Heavens, open your eyes. This woman stole our money and humiliated my son at his own wedding!"

Her crying had drawn a crowd of neighbors, all staring at the scene.

I ignored them, walked to the coffee table, and picked up a folder. Then I returned to the doorway.

Slowly, I took out the documents and held them in front of Evelyn.

"Take a good look," I said calmly. "This is our divorce agreement. Legally signed and notarized.

"And this apartment? I bought it myself before the marriage. It's mine alone. Your son has no claim to it."

I showed her the next page. "This is the full accounting of our shared assets. Every detail is clear and accurate.

"About your son's company shares... After my initial investment and its growth are deducted, what's left was split evenly between us.

"And that tiny bit left in his personal account? That's all he's entitled to."

Evelyn stared blankly at the papers. She couldn't read, but the certainty in my eyes was unmistakable.

She slapped the documents out of my hand and started throwing a tantrum. "I don't care about your papers. I want the money. Give back every cent you stole, or I'll die right here on your doorstep."

Watching her ugly outburst, I felt nothing.

I simply took out my phone and dialed the police.

"Hello, I'd like to report a disturbance. Someone is causing a scene at my home, and I feel unsafe. The address is..." I said flatly.

As I reported to the police, Evelyn's wailing cut off instantly. She stared at me in disbelief, like it never crossed her mind I'd actually call the cops.

To her, family issues stayed private. She assumed I'd choose silence to save face. Little did she know that I was no longer the pushover I used to be.

The police arrived quickly. After checking my property deed and divorce papers, they gave Evelyn a firm warning.

Defeated and humiliated, she shuffled away like a beaten dog under the scornful stares of the neighbors.

Finally, peace returned.

After Evelyn left, Cheryl showed up, carrying breakfast from my go-to spot.

"I heard the noise from downstairs. Can't believe that witch had the nerve to show up here," she grumbled while helping me gather the papers scattered across the floor.

I shook my head, setting the breakfast on the table. "Just a cornered animal lashing out."

"Well, she had it coming," Cheryl said, handing me the now-organized papers. She then leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Speaking of, I just heard a rumor. Richard's company is having some serious cash flow problems."

I picked up my breakfast sandwich and took a bite, the creamy egg and sharp cheddar hitting my palate.

"This is only the beginning," I said, my voice dead calm.

Cheryl looked at me. There was a flicker of worry in her eyes, but it was completely overshadowed by her fierce support. "You're not done with him, are you, Wallis?"

I just smiled without answering.

After leisurely finishing my meal, I went to my study and took another document from the safe.

It was a share pledge agreement Richard was forced to sign years ago when I used my own pre-marital assets to fund his startup.

The terms clearly stated that if his company ran into major trouble, or if he violated our marriage vows, I had the right, as a creditor, to take over all the shares under his name.

Back then, Richard was so swept up in what he saw as my devotion and the high of his new business success that he wasn't thinking straight.

He probably thought it was just a piece of paper to humor me, so he signed without a second thought.

It never crossed his mind that this ignored document would one day loom over him like a shadow, threatening everything he had built.

I gently traced the edge of the agreement, my fingers brushing over his flamboyant signature.

He thought the humiliation at the wedding was the end of it. But that was only the first installment of the price he'd pay for what he'd done.