Chapter 7 - The Cleaning of the House
The next morning, the house was filled with the smell of lemon oil and fresh pine. A professional cleaning crew had arrived at dawn, stripping the white sofa of the covers Vivian had sat on, vacuuming every inch of the marble floor where my son had been forced to crawl, and clearing out every trace of the Whitman family.
Ethan sat at the kitchen island, happily eating a bowl of pancakes shaped like dinosaurs. His cheeks were rosy again, the fear of the previous night replaced by the simple, secure routine of a morning with his mother.
Arthur sat across from me, a fresh stack of legal documents between us. "The divorce petition has been filed, Amanda. Given the evidence of financial fraud and the security footage, Richard will be lucky if he avoids jail time, let alone gets a single dime of alimony or asset split. We’re pushing for sole legal and physical custody with zero visitation rights."
"Thank you, Arthur," I said, watching Ethan carefully flip a piece of pancake with his fork. "What about the logistics company?"
"The transition is already underway," Arthur smiled. "The clients were notified that Richard has been removed due to 'health reasons.' Your father's old partner, Marcus, has agreed to step in as interim CEO until we can formally merge it into Vega Holdings. The business is safe."
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"Mommy," Ethan called out, his mouth full of syrup. "Can we go to the park today? The one with the big slides?"
"We can go anywhere you want, Ethan," I said, walking over to kiss the top of his head. "The whole world is open to us now."
