The room exploded into absolute, instantaneous terror.
Julian whipped around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, knocking a glass of champagne off the nightstand. It shattered against the hardwood floor with a sharp crash.
Natalie let out a blood-curdling shriek, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes bulging out of her head as if she had just seen a ghost standing before her.
“D-David?!” she gasped, her voice cracking into a high-pitched, hysterical squeak. The color drained from her face so completely she looked like a corpse. “Oh my God… David?!”
Julian backed away toward the bathroom, his hands up in a defensive posture, his eyes darting frantically around the room looking for an exit or a weapon.
“Whoa, hey, man!” Julian stammered, his confident voice instantly vanishing into a terrified whine. “Look, brother, I didn’t know! She told me you guys were legally separated! She told me you were getting a divorce!”
I didn’t move an inch from the doorway. My hands remained folded calmly across my chest, my posture relaxed, my eyes cold and dead as ice.
“Julian Vance,” I said softly, reciting his full name from memory. “Born March 14, 1982. Principal broker at Vance Real Estate Group. Currently forty-five days delinquent on your commercial credit line at First National Bank.”
Julian froze, his mouth hanging open in complete shock. “How… how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve spent the last two weeks studying every single detail of your pathetic life while I was waiting for my flight home,” I replied smoothly. “And if you take one more step toward that bathroom, my associate standing at the bottom of those stairs with a licensed sidearm will consider it a threat and break your legs.”
On cue, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Marcus stepped up behind me, his massive six-foot-four frame filling the doorway, his arms crossed, glaring down at Julian with pure malice.
Julian turned white as a sheet, trembling violently. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving right now!”
“No, you’re not,” I said flatly. “You’re going to sit in that chair, shut your mouth, and listen to every word I say until I tell you to leave.”
Julian practically collapsed into the velvet armchair in the corner, his knees knocking together in panic.
Natalie stepped forward, tears instantly welling up in her eyes—the same manipulative, performative tears she had used for years whenever she wanted to escape accountability.
“David… sweetie, please!” she wailed, reaching her hands out toward me. “It’s not what it looks like! I was so lonely… you were gone for so long! I was struggling with depression! He took advantage of me!”
I held up one single finger.
Natalie stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.
“Save the performance, Natalie,” I said softly. “You aren’t lonely. You aren’t depressed. You’re a thief, a liar, and a neglectful mother who brought strange men into the house where my children sleep.”
“Where are the kids?!” she suddenly screamed, panic flashing in her eyes as she looked toward the hallway. “What did you do with Emily and Evan?!”
“They are in a safe place, far away from you,” I said clearly. “Where they will never have to watch their mother destroy our home again.”
I pulled the thick leather binder from under my arm and threw it onto the king-sized bed between us.
It landed with a heavy, thunderous thud.
“What is that?” she whimpered, backing away.
“That is your life, Natalie,” I said softly. “And it’s about to fall completely apart.”
