Chapter 3 - The Powder Room Trap
Eleanor looked as though she was going to faint right there on the immaculate stone terrace, her manicured hands shaking violently as she dropped the birth document.
I did not wait to watch her pathetic reaction, choosing instead to glide gracefully past her and enter the lavish country club.
The interior of the venue was even more obnoxious than the outside, draped in white silk and overflowing with expensive, tasteless ice sculptures.
I needed a brief moment of quiet before the ceremony began, so I directed my security detail to wait outside while I slipped into the grand powder room.
I was fixing my lipstick in the gold-rimmed mirror when the heavy oak door suddenly clicked shut and locked from the inside.
Vanessa stepped out from one of the private stalls, wearing an extravagant, overly heavily beaded wedding dress that could barely conceal her swollen, pregnant belly.
She looked me up and down with a condescending, arrogant smirk, clearly thrilled to finally have her moment to gloat in private.
She caressed her stomach dramatically and told me that Richard had invited me just so I could see what a real, complete woman looked like.
Vanessa laughed a cruel, high-pitched laugh and stated that Richard was finally getting the pure, strong bloodline he had always deserved.
I calmly capped my lipstick, placed it back into my clutch, and turned to face the woman who had helped destroy my marriage.
I complimented her on how radiant her skin looked, noting that pregnancy certainly suited her far better than honesty ever did.
I asked her if the intense morning sickness was the reason she had secretly visited a completely different, highly discreet fertility specialist on the other side of town.
Vanessa's arrogant smirk vanished in an instant, replaced by a mask of sheer, unadulterated panic as she realized what I was implying.
She aggressively stepped toward me and demanded to know what kind of pathetic, jealous lies I was trying to spread on her perfect day.
I calmly informed her that I knew exactly how much money she had wired to the underground clinic to secure an anonymous donor.
Vanessa sneered, regaining a tiny fraction of her confidence as she boldly claimed that Richard already knew everything and did not care.
She claimed that Richard was so desperate for a public heir that he had willingly agreed to use a donor to save his fragile ego.
I smiled a genuinely bright, victorious smile and reached into my designer clutch to pull out my cell phone.
May you like
I showed her the active, blinking red light of the recording application that had just captured her entire, explosive confession.
Before Vanessa could lunge forward to snatch the device from my hands, the heavy oak door of the powder room was violently kicked open.
