Chapter 4 - The Downfall of a Serpent
Downstairs in the kitchen, completely unaware that her master plan had been completely obliterated by a fourteen-year-old’s history project video, Vanessa poured herself a glass of chilled white wine from the refrigerator.
She leaned against the marble counter, a smug, self-satisfied smile spreading across her painted lips.
It’s done, she thought, swirling the wine in her glass. Clara is gone. Adrian is vulnerable, grieving, and completely dependent on me. In a few weeks, I’ll be the mistress of this estate, and every penny of Adrian’s fortune will be mine to control.
She took a slow, luxurious sip of the wine, closing her eyes in anticipation of her glorious future.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The heavy, rhythmic sound of hard-soled shoes echoing down the back staircase shattered her daydream.
Vanessa turned around, expecting to see Adrian looking stressed and exhausted, ready for her to comfort him. Instead, the kitchen doorway filled with a towering, terrifying mass of pure, unadulterated rage.
Adrian Vance looked like a man possessed by a demon. His face was stark white, his eyes bloodshot and dilated, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were grinding audibly. Behind him, walking with measured, lethal steps, were Olivia and Clara.
Vanessa’s smile faltered, her grip tightening nervously around the wine glass. “A-Adrian? Sweetie? What’s wrong? Did the baby wake up?”
Adrian didn't speak. He crossed the kitchen in two massive strides before Vanessa could react, his hand shooting out to grab her by the collar of her blouse.
He didn't hit her—he wasn't a monster, despite what he had done—but the sheer, brutal force with which he slammed her back against the refrigerator made Vanessa shriek in genuine terror, spilling her white wine all over the front of her designer dress.
“Adrian! Have you lost your mind? Let go of me!” Vanessa shrieked, clawing at his hands.
“You tried to kill my daughter,” Adrian whispered. His voice wasn't loud. It was a low, terrifying hiss that sounded like a predator cornering its prey.
Vanessa’s breath caught. Her eyes darted wildly around the room, landing on Olivia’s tablet, which was still clutched in the teenager's hand, displaying the paused security footage.
She knows, the realization struck Vanessa like a physical blow. The color drained completely from her face.
“I... I don't know what you’re talking about... it was an accident... the stroller rolled—!” Vanessa stammered, tears springing to her eyes as she attempted to deploy her usual tearful defense mechanism.
“Shut your lying mouth!” Adrian roared, shaking her so violently her teeth rattled. “I saw the footage! I saw you push her! I saw you try to murder my baby just so you could frame my wife and take over my life!”
“Adrian, please! Let me explain!” Vanessa sobbed, sliding down the refrigerator until she hit the floor, curling into a pathetic ball. “I was stressed! I made a mistake! I didn't mean to—!”
“You meant every second of it,” a cold, hard voice interrupted.
Adrian turned to see Clara standing in the doorway. She wasn't crying anymore. Her eyes were hard, clear, and unyielding. She looked down at her sister with a mixture of pity and absolute contempt.
“You didn't just try to frame me, Vanessa,” Clara said quietly. “You used my love for my child as a weapon against me. You manipulated Adrian into hitting me, into throwing me out of my own home.”
Vanessa looked up at Clara, realizing that her game was entirely up. The mask of the sweet, innocent sister melted away, replaced by a bitter, venomous snarl.
“Fine! You got me!” Vanessa shrieked, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand, her voice dripping with spite. “And what if I did?! You think Adrian actually loves you?! Look at how easily he turned on you! Look at how fast he believed me over his own wife! He’s weak, Clara! He’s paranoid, and he’s an abuser! You’re pathetic for staying with a man who hits you at the drop of a hat!”
The words hung in the air like a foul odor.
Adrian flinched as if he had been stabbed in the chest. Vanessa was right about that, at least—he was a monster for what he had done. He had let his panic and his blind arrogance turn him into the very thing he despised.
“Get out,” Adrian said, releasing Vanessa’s collar and pointing a trembling finger toward the back door.
Vanessa scrambled to her feet, grabbing her handbag from the counter with trembling hands. She glared around the room at the three of them—at Adrian with his haunted eyes, at Olivia with her fierce, unforgiving scowl, and at Clara with her quiet, unbroken strength.
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“You’re all miserable,” Vanessa spat, backing toward the door. “You deserve each other.”
She wrenched the back door open, stepping out into the cold night air, and slammed it shut behind her. The house fell dead silent once more.
