Chapter 5 - The Rat Trap
Two days later, Brendan was desperate.
He hadn’t slept. He looked utterly destroyed. He was wearing the same suit he had worn to the boardroom, now wrinkled and smelling of stale sweat. He was standing in the opulent lobby of my penthouse building, demanding to see me.
Marcus, massive and immovable, stood between Brendan and the private elevator.
"Step aside, Marcus. She has to talk to me! I'm the father of her child!" Brendan yelled, though his voice cracked with exhaustion.
The elevator doors chimed and slid open. I stepped out, flanked by Arthur. I wore a comfortable, flowing cashmere dress. My bump was more visible now, and I rested a protective hand over it.
"Let him speak, Marcus," I said.
Brendan rushed forward, falling to his knees. The arrogance was completely gone, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a cornered rat.
"Cassidy, please. Please," he begged, tears streaming down his face. "I signed the papers. I did what you asked. But I have nothing. The bank foreclosed on the house this morning. My mother is sleeping on a friend's couch. Jessica left me. I don't even have money for food."
I looked down at him. I remembered the bucket of freezing, filthy water. I remembered the laughter.
"And?" I asked, my voice devoid of pity.
"You can't do this!" he cried, a flash of his old anger returning. "I am your husband! I am a human being! Where is your compassion?!"
"My compassion died the night you let your mother treat me like a stray dog," I replied evenly. "You thought you held all the power because you believed I had nowhere else to go. You liked me weak, Brendan. You liked me dependent."
"I was stupid! I was arrogant! I'll change, I swear!" He reached out to touch my leg, but Marcus's heavy boot stepped on the hem of Brendan's trousers, pinning him in place.
"Arthur," I said, not taking my eyes off Brendan. "Explain his legal standing."
Arthur adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Morrison, under the terms of the divorce settlement you signed to avoid federal prison, you have forfeited all claims to alimony, spousal support, and marital assets. Furthermore, due to the morality clause in the original corporate buyout, your actions have triggered a full claw-back of all funds previously paid to you."
Brendan stared, wide-eyed. "Claw-back? What does that mean?"
"It means," Arthur smiled, "you owe Sterling International approximately thirty-two million dollars. You are not just broke, Brendan. You are generationally indebted to the woman you spent three years abusing."
Brendan let out a guttural sound of pure despair. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing openly on the marble floor.
May you like
"Escort him out, Marcus," I said, turning my back on him. "If he comes within a hundred feet of this building again, break his legs."
---
