My Mother Demanded I Divorce My Husband And Give Him Our House Because He Got My Sister Pregnant. Little Do They Know, I’m A Cfo And Have Already Secured The Assets. How Do I Tell Them They’re Now Trespassing On My Property?

The Final Card

Monday morning, I walked into my office building feeling like I was walking on air. The security guards nodded to me. My assistant, oblivious to the weekend’s drama, handed me my coffee.

“You have a busy schedule,”

she said.

“And your family is in the lobby. They’re demanding to see you.”

“Send them to Conference Room B,”

I said calmly.

“And call Diana. Tell her to bring the folder. Oh, and have Mr. Henderson from legal join us.”

I touched up my makeup—sharp eyeliner, red lipstick, a power suit. I was no longer Veronica the victim. I was the master of my own universe.

I walked into Conference Room B. They were all there. My mother looking exhausted, my father furious, Greg in the same clothes as yesterday looking unwashed, Barbara crying quietly in the corner.

“Monster!”

my mother shrieked as soon as I entered.

“How could you? On their wedding night!”

I sat at the head of the table.

“Please, sit down. We have business to discuss.”

“Business?”

Greg slammed his fist on the table.

“You stole my house! You stole my money!”

“I reclaimed my property,”

I corrected.

“And I ceased subsidizing your fraud.”

“We’ll sue you!”

my father yelled.

“We’ll tell everyone what you did!”

“Tell them what?”

I asked.

“That I evicted my ex-husband from a home he didn’t own? That I stopped paying for my grown sister? Go ahead. But before you do, you might want to look at this.”

Diana walked in, followed by our corporate counsel. She placed a thick binder on the table.

“This,”

I said, tapping the binder,

“is a financial audit of the last 5 years. Greg, you embezzled over $100,000 from our joint accounts for gambling and unauthorized gifts. That’s a felony.”

Greg turned pale.

“And Barbara,”

I looked at my sister.

“Here are the receipts for the jewelry, the trips, the clothes—all paid for with stolen money. In the eyes of the law, that makes you an accessory to fraud, receipt of stolen goods.”

Barbara stopped crying.

“I… I didn’t know.”

“Ignorance is not a defense,”

Diana said sharply.

“Now,”

I continued, standing up.

“Here is my offer. I will not press criminal charges against Greg. I will not sue Barbara for the return of the assets. I will not sue you, Mom and Dad, for the money I loaned you over the years that you forgot to pay back.”

My parents shrank in their seats.

“In return,”

I said,

“you will all sign a non-disclosure agreement. You will never contact me again. You will never come to my office. You will never come to my home. And you,”

I pointed at Greg,

“will acknowledge that the debt you owe the casino and the IRS is your debt alone.”

“The IRS?”

Greg squeaked.

“Oh yes,”

I smiled.

“I filed an Innocent Spouse Claim this morning. The IRS knows you failed to declare that gambling income. They’ll be in touch.”

Greg put his head in his hands. He was finished.

“You’re destroying us,”

my mother whispered.

“We’re family.”

“No,”

I said, my voice hard as steel.

“You were parasites. I was the host. I am simply curing the infection.”

“What about the baby?”

Barbara wailed.

“Your nephew! He needs a home!”

I looked at Barbara. I looked at her stomach. And I played my final card, the one I had been saving.

“About that baby,”

I said, pulling the last sheet from the binder.

“Greg, remember when we were trying IVF? You refused to get tested.”

Greg looked up, confused.

“So… so I had the doctor run a test on the sample you gave for that at-home kit we tried first. I found the results in your desk. You’d hidden them.”

I slid the paper to him.

“You have a genetic condition, Greg. Azoospermia. You have a zero sperm count. You’re sterile.”

The room was utterly silent. You could hear the hum of the air conditioning. Greg looked at the paper. Then he looked at Barbara. The color drained from Barbara’s face. She looked like a ghost.

“Barb?”

Greg’s voice was a dangerous whisper.

“Barb… whose baby is it?”

“I… I…”

Barbara stammered.

“That test is wrong! Veronica faked it!”

“It’s from the clinic, Greg,”

I said.

“Call them.”

Greg stood up. The realization was dawning on him. He had blown up his life, lost his rich wife, lost the house, and gone into debt for a child that wasn’t his.

“Who is he?!”

Greg roared, grabbing Barbara’s arm.

“It was one time!”

Barbara screamed.

“With my trainer! It didn’t mean anything! I needed you to marry me! I needed the stability!”

“You set me up!”

Greg yelled.

“You ruined my life for some bastard child!”

He lunged for her. Security was on him in an instant, restraining him.

“Get them out,”

I told the guards.

“All of them.”

As they were dragged out, Greg was screaming curses. Barbara was howling. My parents looked old and defeated.

I felt nothing. Not joy, not sadness. Just quiet. The quiet of a clean slate.