Diane laughed softly. “She’s learning her role.”
I poured his coffee.
Ethan leaned back like a king at his throne. “You should’ve acted like this from the start. Would’ve made things easier.”
“For who?” I asked.
His expression sharpened. “Careful.”
The doorbell rang.
He frowned. “Are we expecting someone?”
“Yes,” I said.
“At breakfast?” Diane snapped.
“Guests.”
Ethan smirked. “Good. Let them see how obedient you’ve become.”
I walked to the door and opened it.
First came my attorney, Rebecca Sloan, sharp and composed.
Behind her—two police officers.
Then a bank executive.
Ethan’s business partner, pale and sweating.
And finally, a woman he once called “just an assistant”… holding a folder like it might save her.
Ethan’s face drained of color.
“What is this?” he demanded.
I stepped aside.
“Breakfast.”
No one laughed.
Rebecca took a seat. The officers remained standing. The bank executive opened his case. The assistant sat quietly, hands trembling.
Diane’s voice tightened. “Ethan, make them leave.”
Ethan stood. “Everyone out. Now.”
One officer stepped forward. “Mr. Caldwell, sit down.”
He froze.
For the first time in years, no one listened to him.
I placed a tablet on the table and pressed play.
His voice filled the room.
“Tomorrow morning, I want a real breakfast…”
Then—
The slap.
Diane’s smile disappeared.
