Chapter 1: The Lie That Cost Him Everything
"Your son will destroy you.""
Vanessa said it with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Standing in the middle of my living room, wearing a tight cobalt-blue evening gown and holding a bright red lipstick, my daughter-in-law looked more like a woman preparing for a celebration than someone threatening a seventy-year-old man.
I was wearing my usual olive-green T-shirt and dark trousers. I'd spent the afternoon repairing a loose cabinet hinge in the kitchen, and there was still a little dust on my sleeve.
The contrast between us was almost ridiculous.
But I wasn't laughing.
"Vanessa," I said calmly, "what exactly are you talking about?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she twisted the lipstick cap off, stared directly into my eyes, and dragged the red cosmetic across her own cheek.
One long, ugly streak.
Then another.
She pressed hard enough to make the skin underneath turn pink.
I stepped forward.
"Good Lord! What are you doing?""
Vanessa raised her voice.
"You'll pay for everything you've done!""
"Put that lipstick down. You're hurting yourself.""
She looked toward the staircase.
Then she did something I never could have imagined.
She threw herself backward onto my pristine white carpet.
Her handbag flew across the floor. One of her shoes slipped off. She immediately began screaming as if someone had just beaten her within an inch of her life.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!""
I froze.
"Vanessa, get up!""
"STOP! PLEASE! DON'T HIT ME AGAIN!""
I stared at her in disbelief.
Then I heard footsteps pounding down the stairs.
Michael.
My only son.
And behind him was a young woman wearing a yellow dress.
"Vanessa!"" Michael shouted.
He reached the bottom of the staircase and rushed toward his wife.
She immediately curled into a ball, covering her face with both hands.
"Michael!"" she sobbed.
"Your father attacked me!""
I felt the room tilt.
"What?""
Michael looked at the red streak across her cheek.
Then he looked at me.
His expression changed instantly.
"What did you do to my wife?""
I raised both hands.
"Michael, listen to me. She did that to herself. I watched her—"
"LOOK AT HER FACE!""
"Son, she took the lipstick and—"
"YOU HIT HER!""
The young woman in yellow stood near the staircase, her eyes moving nervously between us.
Her name was Chloe. She was Vanessa's younger cousin, who had been staying with us for several weeks while supposedly looking for an apartment.
"Michael," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I know you love your wife, but you need to hear me before you do something you'll regret.""
Vanessa began crying louder.
"He's been threatening me for months! I told you I didn't feel safe living here!""
That was another lie.
I had never threatened her.
In fact, I had paid for her wedding dress, helped her parents with their medical bills, and given the newlyweds the entire second floor of my house.
When Michael lost his job two years earlier, I had quietly covered their mortgage payments.
I had done everything I could to make their marriage comfortable.
Apparently, that had made me an easy target.
Michael grabbed the front of my shirt.
The fabric tightened around my neck.
"How dare you touch her?""
I winced.
"Michael, please. You're hurting me.""
"You're an old man! You should know better!""
I looked into his eyes.
For a brief second, I searched for the little boy who used to climb into my bed during thunderstorms.
The boy who once held my hand at his mother's funeral and promised that he would always take care of me.
But that boy was nowhere to be found.
"Let go of me," I whispered.
Michael shoved me backward.
My heel caught the edge of the carpet.
Before I could regain my balance, his fist connected with my face.
The impact sent me crashing onto the floor.
My cheek struck the carpet, and a sharp pain spread through my jaw.
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except a high-pitched ringing.
I touched my face.
My fingers came away red.
"Michael...""
My voice barely worked.
He stood above me, breathing heavily.
"That's what happens when you lay a hand on my wife.""
Behind him, Vanessa slowly sat up.
And then I saw it.
She smiled.
Not a nervous smile.
Not the relieved smile of someone who had just been rescued.
It was a small, satisfied smile.
She quickly lowered her head when she noticed me looking.
But I had already seen it.
Chloe saw it too.
Her eyes widened.
"Michael," I said, struggling to sit up, "she is lying.""
Vanessa immediately grabbed her husband's arm.
"Baby, please. Let's leave. I'm scared.""
Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Don't worry. I'll never let him hurt you again.""
I pressed a hand against my cheek.
"You're defending a lie.""
Michael turned around.
"Don't you dare talk about her like that!""
I looked at my son.
"My own son...""
The words came out broken.
Michael hesitated.
For one tiny moment, I thought he might finally recognize what he had done.
Then Vanessa whispered something into his ear.
His face hardened again.
"Get out of my sight.""
I slowly pushed myself upright.
"This is my house, Michael.""
He laughed bitterly.
"Not for much longer.""
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?""
Vanessa wiped her fake tears and adjusted the neckline of her dress.
"Perhaps you should ask your son about the property documents.""
My stomach tightened.
"What documents?""
She exchanged a glance with Michael.
Then she smiled.
"The ones you signed.""
I had signed several documents recently. Michael had told me they were routine financial papers related to restructuring the family business.
But I had never signed anything transferring ownership of my home.
Had I?
Before I could ask another question, Michael grabbed Vanessa's handbag and guided her toward the stairs.
Chloe remained behind.
As Michael disappeared upstairs, she glanced at me.
Her lips parted.
"Mr. Anderson...""
"What is it, Chloe?""
She looked toward the staircase, then lowered her voice.
"Please don't sign anything else. Whatever Vanessa tells you, don't trust her.""
My heart began pounding.
"Why?""
Chloe swallowed.
"Because what happened tonight wasn't the first time she's planned something like this.""
She reached into the pocket of her yellow dress.
And placed a small black object in my trembling hand.
A recording device.
"Mr. Anderson," she whispered, "I recorded everything.""
May you like
Then she looked toward the staircase again.
"And there's something else. Vanessa has been telling Michael that you are...""
