Bankrupting My Husband’s Fake Perfect Family Chapter 20

Bankrupting My Husband’s Fake Perfect Family Chapter 20: The Slum Dwellers

*Elevator dings

“Stay behind me,” I told Sebastian as the brass doors slid open.

“I’m your lawyer,” he replied, adjusting his cuffs. “I lead.”

“Not this time.”

I stepped into the expansive marble lobby. Two uniformed police officers stood near the reception desk. Between them, hunched and shivering, were Liam and Mia.

The sight of them stopped me for a fraction of a second.

They wore cheap, oversized puffer jackets covered in matted fabric pills. The bright neon colors were smeared with street dirt. Mias hair, once perfectly braided every morning by a hired stylist, hung in greasy, tangled knots around her pale face.

Liam spotted me first.

His eyes widened, darting from my tailored crimson blazer to the diamond tennis bracelet catching the overhead lights. A violent flush of red crept up his neck.

“Mom,” Mia whimpered, stepping forward.

Liam grabbed her arm and yanked her back. “Don’t look at her.”

He spun around, trying to shove past the taller officer toward the revolving glass doors.

“Hey! Hold it right there, kid,” the officer barked, grabbing Liam by the scruff of his pilled collar.

Liam thrashed, kicking his worn sneakers against the polished floor. “Let me go! I don’t know her! Let me out of here!”

“Stop fighting, or I’ll put you in cuffs,” the second officer warned, pinning Liams shoulder against the security desk.

I walked forward, my stride even and unhurried. The marble floor amplified the sharp sound of my leather soles.

“Ms. Miller?” the first officer asked, glancing at his notepad.

“Yes,” I answered.

“These juveniles bypassed your building’s security. When my partner and I apprehended them, we found stolen merchandise in their pockets.

The officer pulled a crushed, plastic-wrapped loaf of white bread from his utility belt and tossed it onto the reception counter It landed with a dull thud.

“They hit a corner bodega three blocks from here,” the officer explained. “The owner flagged us down. The boy claims youre his mother and that you’ll cover the damages.”

I shifted my gaze to Liam. He refused to meet my eyes, staring intensely at the crushed bread.

“Is that what you told them, Liam?” I asked.

“I was hungry,” he muttered, his voice cracking.

“And you thought my office tower was a soup kitchen?”

Mia burst into loud, jagged sobs. She wiped her nose on her dirty sleeve, leaving a streak of grime across her cheek.

“Chloe kicked us out!” Mia cried out, reaching a trembling hand toward me. “Julian got arrested, and she locked the apartment! We slept in the subway station last night! Please, Mommy, I want to go home!”

“You don’t have a home with me, Mia. You made your choice when you laughed in Julian’s Porsche.”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, her knees buckling.

The officer caught her before she hit the floor. He looked at me, a deep frown carving lines into his forehead.

“Ma’am, I understand there might be a family dispute,” the officer said, his tone stiffening. “But they are minors. Are you their legal guardian?”

I reached into my blazer pocket. I pulled out a crisp, gold-embossed business card and extended it toward him.

“I am Clara Miller,” I stated. “Senior Partner at Apex Holdings. And I am Julian Miller’s ex-wife.”

The officer took the card, reading the heavy print. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I surrendered all parental rights six months ago,” I told him, keeping my voice entirely devoid of inflection. “They belong to the state, or to their father in federal lockup. I hold no legal obligation to them.”

Liams head snapped up. The shame in his eyes morphed instantly into raw panic.

“You can’t do this!” Liam shouted, struggling against the cop’s grip again. “You have to bail us out! It’s just a loaf of bread! Give them twenty bucks!”

“I don’t carry cash,” I replied.

“You’re wearing a diamond bracelet!” he screamed, pointing a shaking finger at my wrist. “Sell it! Help us!”

“You wear a Rolex, Liam. Or did you pawn the watch I bought you to pay for Chloe’s room service?”

He flinched as if I had slapped him. His jaw dropped, but no words came out.

“Officer,” I said, turning my attention back to the uniforms. “Press the maximum charges for the theft. And add criminal trespassing to the list.”

“Mom, no!” Mia shrieked, her voice tearing through the quiet lobby.

“Take them out of my building,” I ordered.

“Understood, Ms. Miller,” the officer muttered. He didn’t hide his disgust, but he shoved Liam toward the exit. “Let’s go, kids You’re heading to juvenile processing.”

“You bitch!” Liam roared, digging his heels into the marble. “I hate you! You’re dead to me!”

“You died to me the day you called that mistress your mother,” I answered softly.

The police dragged them through the glass doors.

1 followed them outside. The midday sun glared off the concrete, bright and unforgiving.

The officers forced Liam and Mia into the back of the cruiser. The heavy metal doors slammed shut, locking them inside the cage.

1 stood on the curb.

Mia pressed her face against the reinforced glass. Her small fists battered the window, her mouth open in a soundless scream Liam sat beside her, his head buried in his hands, completely broken.

I watched them cry. I studied their desperation.

There was no tug at my heartstrings. No phantom pain in my chest. The maternal instinct that had once driven me to work eighty-hour weeks to afford their private tutors was completely eradicated.

Stripping them of their privilege was the final step. I wanted them to taste the absolute bottom. I wanted them to understand exactly what betrayal cost.

The cruisers engine roared to life. It pulled away from the curb, merging into the heavy city traffic.

I didn’t wave. I didn’t blink. I just watched the flashing lights disappear around the corner.

A sleek black Maybach rolled up to the curb, stopping exactly where the police car had been. The driver stepped out and opened the rear passenger door.

Sebastian stepped up beside me.

He didn’t offer empty comfort. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He knew exactly what I had just done, and he respected the execution.

He reached out and wrapped his large, warm hand around my freezing fingers.

“The parasite is dead,” Sebastian noted, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“Starved at the root,” I agreed.

I tore my gaze away from the empty street and turned toward the open car door. My posture remained flawless. The crown on my head felt heavier, but it sat perfectly straight.

Sebastian guided me toward the leather seats. He leaned in close, his mouth hovering just inches from my ear.

“The prison visitation request,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous pitch.

I paused, one foot inside the vehicle. “Did the warden reject it?”

“No,” Sebastian answered, a dark smirk curving his lips. “I got it approved. We see Julian the day after tomorrow”