One-way. Under the name *Lauren Miller*.
Not Lauren Vance.
I pulled the ticket out and held it up in front of Lauren’s face.
Aaron, who was being dragged past the kitchen counter by two agents, stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes fell on the plane ticket. Then he looked at Lauren.
“Lauren…?” Aaron whispered, his voice cracking. “What… what is that?”
I turned to Aaron, a cold, mocking smile playing on my lips.
“Oh, did she forget to tell you, Aaron?” I asked smoothly. “Lauren wasn’t planning on sharing that Zurich money with you or Theresa. She booked a one-way flight to Geneva two weeks ago. The Zurich account isn’t co-owned by Vanguard Holdings anymore. Two days ago, Lauren filed a sole-trustee execution claim, removing your name entirely.”
Aaron’s eyes went wide with realization. He turned his head slowly toward Lauren, his face twisting into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.
“You…” Aaron roared, lunging against the agents holding him, trying desperately to get to Lauren. “YOU BITCH! I KILLED MY FATHER FOR YOU! I STOLE FROM MY BROTHER FOR YOU! YOU WAS GOING TO LEAVE ME?!”
“Aaron, no! It’s not what it looks like!” Lauren shrieked, backing away in terror as Aaron thrashed violently in the grip of the federal agents.
“YOU WERE LEAVING ME TO TAKE THE FALL?!” Aaron screamed, spit flying from his mouth, his voice echoing down the hallway as the agents forcefully slammed him against the wall to control him. “AGENTS! LISTEN TO ME! SHE POISONED ARTHUR! LAUREN PUT THE DIGITALIS IN HIS TEA! SHE DID IT! SHE HAS THE RECEIPTS IN HER SAFE DEPOSIT BOX! I HAVE THE RECORDINGS!”
Lauren’s face turned paper-white. “Shut up, Aaron! Shut up!”
“I’LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING!” Aaron roared, tears of rage pouring down his face as he was dragged out the front door. “SHE KILLED HIM! SHE PLANNED THE WHOLE THING!”
The hallway erupted into total chaos—screams, weeping, accusations, and the heavy thud of tactical boots fading down the corridor as all four of them were led away in chains.
The front door finally swung shut.
Silence returned to my condo.
Director Vance walked over to me, putting a heavy, reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Well, Mariana,” Vance said softly. “You certainly know how to host a dinner party.”
“They wanted to play games with my life, Director,” I replied, standing straight, taking a deep breath of the clear, quiet air. “I just made sure everybody got served.”
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Vance chuckled, turning toward the door. “Our team will handle the evidence processing. Aaron’s confession on camera just sealed the murder charges for both him and Lauren. Theresa will face accessory to murder and grand fraud. Daniel will likely spend five to eight years for felony forgery and bank fraud conspiracy.”
“Good,” I said. “Let them share a budget in federal prison.”
Vance nodded, exiting the apartment with the remaining officers, closing the door quietly behind them.
I was alone.
I walked over to the kitchen island, picked up the silver fountain pen, and neatly filed the divorce papers into my leather briefcase.
Then, I grabbed the bottle of fine red wine, walked out onto my balcony, and poured the remaining liquid into a crystal glass.
The city below me buzzed with millions of lights, vibrant, alive, and endless.
I looked down at the street below. Three police cruisers and two unmarked federal vans were pulling away from the curb, their red and blue lights flashing silently against the wet asphalt before disappearing into the dark.
I raised my glass to the night sky, took a slow, luxurious sip, and smiled.
My table was finally clean.
And I was full.
