Peter remained deathly still, his jaw set in a hard line. Toby began to fuss, and Sarah rocked him instinctively. She kept talking, knowing if she stopped now, she’d never find the courage again.
She admitted that Mark took her entire $3,800 monthly salary. He gave her a “stipend” of $200 for diapers and groceries. He told her she should be grateful he “allowed” her to work at all instead of being a “lazy stay-at-home mom.”
When Peter asked again about the SUV, his voice had a dangerous edge. It wasn’t a loud anger; it was a cold, calculated fury. Sarah gave him the final, bitter truth.
For the last six months, a woman named Stacy—a “colleague” of Mark’s—had been driving the car. Stacy had even posted photos of it on social media, calling it a “gift from her man.” Sarah had seen them together at the mall a month ago; Mark was kissing her while she sat behind the wheel of the car Peter had paid for in cash.
Peter looked like he had turned to stone. The wind whipped around them, but he didn’t seem to feel the cold. Sarah took a deep breath and told him the scariest part.
Two nights ago, Linda had shown up at their apartment. She wasn’t alone. She brought a local notary and a couple of “associates”—rough-looking men Sarah didn’t recognize. Peter’s voice was a low growl when he asked what they wanted.
When Sarah explained they wanted the deed to Peter’s suburban home, his eyes narrowed. They had thrown a quitclaim deed on the table, demanding Sarah get him to sign it over to Mark. When she refused, Linda had leaned in close, whispering that Peter was “old and his heart was weak,” and that “accidents happen to seniors who live alone.”
Peter took a long, slow breath, then pulled out his phone again.
His movements were precise, like a man used to handling crises. He dialed a number and waited. When the person picked up, he simply said, “Victor, it’s Pete. I’m calling in that favor we discussed. I need the full team. Now.”
Sarah was bewildered. She had always known her father as a quiet, retired industrial draftsman. He’d spent his life in a cubicle—or so she thought. After he hung up, he looked at her.
There was a steel in his gaze she’d never seen before. He told her quite simply that Mark and his mother had made a “fatal career error” by not checking into his background. They thought they were bullying a harmless old man who spent his days gardening and fixing leaky faucets for the neighbors.
