Chapter 5 - The Escalation
Two days passed.
Nathan had tried calling sixty-two times. He left dozens of frantic voicemails ranging from tearful apologies to angry threats. He tried showing up at my office in downtown Boston, but security—whom I had already briefed—escorted him off the premises before he reached the lobby elevators.
On Thursday evening, as I was finishing up a work proposal at my desk, my phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number.
I answered it carefully. “Hello?”
“Caroline? It’s Arthur.”
Arthur was Nathan’s older brother—a high-powered commercial real estate developer who had always looked down his nose at me during family dinners.
“Arthur,” I said dryly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Look, Caroline, this whole situation has gotten completely out of hand,” Arthur said, adopting a stern, negotiator tone. “Mom is beside herself. Nathan is staying on my couch, drinking himself to sleep, and the restaurant is threatening legal action that could ruin his credit score.”
“Then pay the bill, Arthur,” I replied. “You’re a successful developer, aren’t you? Seventeen thousand dollars shouldn't be a problem for you.”
Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That’s not the point. You two are married. You have joint assets. Taking advantage of a technicality to embarrass my family in front of Boston society is extremely low, even for you.”
“'Even for me'?” I repeated, leaning back in my chair. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s be honest, Caroline,” Arthur sneered, dropping his polite tone. “You brought two kids into this marriage from a previous relationship. Nathan took on a massive emotional burden taking you guys in. Mom was right—you should be grateful he gave you a complete family again.”
My blood ran cold, but my voice remained steady as mountain ice.
“Arthur, do you know who owned the brownstone Nathan lived in before we met?”
Silence.
“It was a two-bedroom rental in South Boston that he shared with a roommate because he was three months behind on his credit card payments,” I said. “Do you know who paid off his $45,000 personal debt six months after we got married so he wouldn't go bankrupt?”
Silence again.
“I did.” I said. “I have the bank statements, the canceled checks, and the wire transfers. Your brother didn't take me in, Arthur. I rescued him from financial ruin. And if you or your precious mother say one more word disparaging my children, I will release every single financial document to your mother’s country club board.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Arthur whispered, genuine panic creeping into his voice.
“Try me,” I said, and hung up.
Ten minutes later, my phone chimed with a text message from Richard Vance.
May you like
Caroline, process servers have just served Nathan with the divorce papers and the temporary eviction order at Arthur’s residence. We go to preliminary court on Monday.
I stared at the screen, taking a deep breath. The battle had officially begun.
