Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
Julian stared at the silver box, a hesitant smile creeping back onto his face. He clearly thought I was pivoting to a romantic gesture. “Harper, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’re the only gift I need.”
“Open it, Julian,” I repeated, the warmth entirely drained from my voice.
His smile faltered slightly at my tone. He pulled the silk ribbon and lifted the lid.
Inside the box rested a small, black USB flash drive, sitting atop a neatly folded piece of paper.
He looked at the drive, then up at me, his confusion deepening. “What is this? A video montage?”
“Unfold the paper,” I instructed.
He set the box down on a side table and unfolded the thick stock paper. It was a printed spreadsheet I had made at 4:00 AM.
I watched his eyes scan the page. I watched the color drain from his face, replaced by a sickly, ashen gray. His jaw slackened.
“This…” he stammered, the smooth confidence completely obliterating. “Harper, where did you… what is this?”
“It’s an itemized list of your failures, Julian,” I said, stepping closer to him, my heavy silk dress rustling against the carpet. “Three point two million dollars to Apex Lending. A second mortgage of eight hundred thousand on your mother’s condo. Six months of unpaid rent on the River North loft. You aren’t building an empire. You’re living in a crater.”
“Harper, let me explain,” he started, his voice cracking. He reached out to grab my arm, but I stepped back, out of his reach.
“Explain what?” I snapped, the anger finally breaking through my icy exterior. “That your startup is a ghost? That you and your mother plotted to use my condo to save yourselves from bankruptcy?”
“No! No, that’s not true,” he pleaded, his eyes darting frantically around the room as if looking for an exit. “The funding is just delayed! I was going to tell you, I swear. I just didn’t want to stress you out before the wedding. The joint-tenancy… it was just a temporary bridge loan. I would have paid you back!”
“Stop lying!” I raised my voice, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. “I know about the Quitclaim deed in your briefcase, Julian. I know exactly what you were going to do.”
Just then, the door swung open. Eleanor and Chloe rushed in, followed by Sienna.
“What is going on in here?” Eleanor demanded, her eyes darting between Julian’s panicked face and my rigid posture. “We can hear you in the hallway!”
“Perfect timing, Eleanor,” I said, turning to face her.
I walked over to the vanity, picked up my phone, and connected it to the portable Bluetooth speaker Sienna had been using to play acoustic wedding playlists.
“Harper, what are you doing?” Julian hissed, stepping toward me.
“Giving my wedding toast a little early,” I replied, and pressed play.
The audio was crystal clear.
“Once the wedding is done, the condo situation gets easier, right?” Chloe’s recorded voice filled the bridal suite.
Chloe gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth.
“Of course. After tomorrow, Julian can make it emotional. Not legal… He’ll talk about trust, building a family… She’ll fold.” Eleanor’s calculating voice resonated through the speaker.
Eleanor’s face turned a horrifying shade of white. She looked like she might faint. She grabbed the edge of a chair for support.
I let the recording play through. I let them hear every single word. I let them hear the part where Eleanor called my home a “safety blanket.” I let them hear the part where she admitted Julian only loved what I could do for him.
When the recording ended, the silence in the room was deafening.
Sienna was staring at Julian with pure, unadulterated disgust.
Julian looked at his mother, then at me. “Harper…” he whispered, broken. “Please.”
“I went to your condo last night, Eleanor,” I said, my voice steady, addressing the matriarch directly. “I forgot my cardigan. The one my mother made for me. And in return, you gave me the clarity I needed to save my own life.”
Eleanor opened her mouth, her aristocratic composure completely shattered. “Harper, you misunderstand. We were… we were just worried about Julian’s stress…”
“Save it,” I cut her off. I looked at Julian. “You wanted my assets, Julian? I called Arthur Vance at two in the morning. Everything I own—the condo, the inheritance, every single dollar—is now locked in an irrevocable blind trust. Even if I wanted to bail you out of the millions you owe, I legally cannot.”
Julian stumbled back as if I had physically struck him. The realization that his lifeline was gone, that he was going to have to face his creditors alone, washed over him.
May you like
I looked down at my left hand. I pulled the three-carat diamond ring off my finger. I walked over to the side table where Chloe had left her half-empty glass of champagne.
I dropped the ring into the glass. It sank to the bottom with a quiet clink.
