Hey love, guess who just popped up on the speaker, sounding like its trying to give me a migraine. Hey, dragonfly, didnt expect me?
Claire froze, a halfempty bottle of perfume still in her hand. The air in the walkin wardrobe, normally scented with sandalwood and a whiff of success, suddenly felt thick and stickyjust like that evening last year when she was forced to sleep in the stairwell with the kids after Mark threw them out.
What do you want, Mark? she managed, keeping her voice steady. She forced herself not to glance at the giggles coming from the babys room, where little Emma was babbling away.
Straight to the point, then. No hows life? or whats new? Were not strangers, Claire. Remember, weve got two kids together.
Marks smile crept across the line, a sound that scraped at her nerves like a rusty nail on glass. She hadnt heard that grin in a whole yearno tone that tried to claim ownership of her, of her life.
I remember. What do you need?
Claire set the perfume bottle down on the marble countertop. Her fingers trembled, but her voice stayed solid. Shed learned that.
Money.
Short, simple. No apologies, no preamble. He hadnt changed a bit.
You serious?
And I look like a joker? Marks voice snapped with anger. Ive got real problems, Claire. Serious ones. And you, I hear, are living the dreambig house, rich husband, the papers dont lie?
She stared at her reflection. The woman looking back was draped in a silk robe, hair done up like shed just stepped out of a fancy salonnot the exhausted, tearstreaked mess hed tossed out the door with a couple of bags of childrens stuff.
Is that a problem for your new sugardad? Throwing a bit of life back at an exhusband?
Business isnt thriving, you know? I jumped into crypto and it crashed. I need cash to settle debts with some very serious people.
She could picture him, slumped in a cheap chair with that same cocky smile, convinced shed crumble again, that the guilt hed built up over the years would finally snap her.
You kicked us out in the middle of winter, Mark. Remember what Emma said when we were at the station?
Alright, cut the drama. Im not asking for a palace. £60,000. For you thats pocketchange. Pay up for my silence if you want.
Silence? What are you on about?
The price you paid for this sweet life. Think your bloke, Oliver, will be thrilled if I spill a few juicy bits about our past?
The wardrobe door swung open and David walked in, crisp in an immaculate suit, calm and confident. He caught Claires face and frowned, silently asking, All good?
Claire stared at him, feeling his caring gaze, while Marks voice crackled in the speaker. Two worlds collidedone shed built, the other trying to tear it down.
So, Claire? Mark kept pestering. Help a poor relative? Because if he comes crawling back in a year, begging for cash, his business must be in the pits.
She gave David a slow nod, signalling that she had things under control. For the first time in this call, there was a cold, sharp edge to her tonenot fear, but steel.
Where and when? she asked.
They met in a bland café inside the local shopping centre. Loud pop music, popcorn smell, teenage laughterperfect for a scream nobody would hear.
Claire had a habit of fixing problems where she least wanted a scene.
Mark was already there, a cheaplooking suit trying to look expensive, lazily stirring his drink.
Running late, he said without even looking up. Its rude to keep a dad waiting.
Claire sat opposite him, placed her bag on the table, and held onto it tightly. Im not giving you £60,000, Mark.
What?! he finally looked up, a flash of open envy crossing his eyes as he took in her dress and the ring on her finger. Changed your mind? I could just call your Dave now. Get his numberno problem.
I can offer you £300,000 and a job. Dave has connections, he
Mark laughed loudly, tossing his head back. A few nearby diners turned to stare. A job? Seriously? You think Id go knocking on doors like some rookie? Youve forgotten who I am, Claire. Im a businessman! I need seed capital, not handouts.
His voice hardened as he leaned forward, lowering his tone. You sit there all prim. Think I dont know how you got him? Told him I was a monster and you a helpless lamb? And that you called him a week before meeting him, begged him to come back? Hell love hearing that.
Every word landed like a blow, striking at her deepest fearthat David would see her as the weak, dependent ex hed left behind.
Claire quietly pulled out a checkbook, still hoping for a compromise, still trying to settle things nicely.
Ill write you a check for £10,000, she said, her voice husky. Thats the most I can do. Take it and disappear from our lives, please.
She slid the paper across.
Mark snatched the check with two fingers, held it up to the light as if it were a jewel, then slowly tore it into four pieces, savoring it.
You think youve humiliated me? he hissed. £10,000? Thats your thankyou for the years I wasted on you? For the kids?
He flung the torn bits onto the table; they fell like dead butterflies on the glossy surface. £60,000, Claire. Either pay up or I wont disappear. Ill be your cursecalling, texting, picking up the kids after school, telling them who their real dad is. Youve got a week.
He stood, tossed a crumpled few notes onto the table for his drink, and left without looking back.
Claire sat frozen, watching the torn check. The music roared, people laughed, and inside her something hardened. Fear turned into icy resolve. The negotiation had collapsed, utterly and humiliatingly.
The week dragged on like torture. She barely slept, jolting at every ring. She searched for an exit, but the sticky dread clung. She feared not herself, but the life David had given her and the children.
On the seventh day, Mark struck again.
When she collected the kids from the art club, Emma was oddly quiet. At home, tucking her daughter into bed, Claire saw a bright lollipop in Emmas handsomething shed never bought.
Where did you get that, love? Claire asked.
Emmas eyes widened and she whispered, Uncle gave it to me. Said hes my real dad and hell take us away from bad dad Dave. Mum, arent we going to dad Daves?
Something clicked inside Claire. Fear and panic vanished, replaced by a cold, solid emptiness that quickly hardened into something unbreakable.
Hed dared to get close to her children. Hed used them.
Enough.
That evening, when David came home from work, a different woman was waiting for him. Her eyes were dry, her stare straight and fierce.
We need to talk, she said, no fluff, pulling him into a chair in the study.
She spilled everythingno tears, no excuses. How Mark had thrown her out with the kids, how shed slept in the stairwell, how shed lived in fear that the past would ruin the present, and how hed approached Emma today.
David listened, his face turning to stone with each word. When she finished, he asked nothing. He just
What do you want to do? he asked, his voice even, but the calm held a weight.
I want him gone. For good. Not the way he thinks. Im not paying him. I want him to realise hes made the biggest mistake of his life.
She looked David straight in the eyes and, for the first time, saw not just love and care but a full endorsement of her darkest side.
Ten minutes later she dialled Mark. Her hands no longer trembled.
Im in, she said, voice level. £60,000. Tomorrow at noon. Ill send the address. Come yourself.
Mark chuckled into the handset, Finally, a clever one. Took you long enough.
She hung up. The address shed send wasnt a bank or a restaurantit was the headquarters of David Orlovs corporate empire.
Mark strutted into the glass skyscraper with the swagger of a victor, shoulders back in his sharpest suit, taking in the icy luxury of the lobby. He walked his own version of justice, his version of money.
They escorted him to the fortieth floor, a conference room with floortoceiling windows that made the city look like a toy set.
Claire was already there, seated at the head of a long table, poised and calm in a dark navy dress. Beside her sat David, and a few seats over, a sternlooking security chief.
Sit down, Mark, Claire said, gesturing to the chair opposite.
His confidence wavered a notch. Hed expected her frightened, suitcase of cash at her feet.
Whats this, a family council? he muttered, nodding toward David. I thought wed have a deal.
You were dealing with my family, David replied evenly, never breaking eye contact. This is something else.
Claire slid a thick folder across the table.
£60,000, Mark. You wanted it. But handing it over is too boring. Weve decided to invest it in you.
Mark stared, baffled. What do you mean?
This is your business now, said the security chief, his face stonecold. Or rather, whats left of it. Debts, a couple of fraud cases about to surface. Highrisk assets.
Mark flipped through the folder: copies of court orders, bank statements, photos of shady meetings. His face turned pale.
We cleared your most urgent debts, Claire continued. The ones that wouldve waited for a verdict. Consider it a gift. In exchange
David placed a stack of papers and a pen on the table.
you sign this. A full renunciation of parental rights and a threeyear employment contract.
Mark burst into a manic laugh. Youve lost your mind? Working for you?
Not for you, David clarified. For one of our subsidiary firms. In Yorkshire. Foreman on a construction site. Decent pay, solid terms. Youll be back in three years, debtfree, with a clean record.
Mark exploded, Get lost! Ill ruin you! Ill tell everyone!
The security chief tapped the folder. Tell, yes. But after that your words will be worth less than this paper. Those documents will end up on a prosecutors desk today. The choice is yours.
Mark scanned their facesClaires calm, Davids iron, the security chiefs indifferent stare. No doubt, no chance. He was trapped.
He sank heavily into the chair, his bravado evaporating like cheap gold. He was no longer the predator, but a cornered, pitiful jackal.
His hand trembled as he picked up the pen.
When the final signature was inked, Claire rose, walked around the table, and stopped directly in front of him.
You said if a man crawls back on his knees a year later begging for money, his affairs are downright terrible, she reminded quietly.
Youre not on your knees, Mark. Just the floors too pricey here. Youve got your startup capital. Begin a new life.
She turned and left without a glance back. David followed, laying his hand on her shoulder.
In the vast conference room, under the indifferent gaze of the security chief, a broken man remained seatedthe loser who thought hed won everything.
