Chapter 4 - The Eviction Notice
I met Megan at a quiet, upscale cafe in West Lake Hills. She had traded her gorgeous wedding gown for a pair of simple jeans and a cream-colored sweater. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were clear. She was no longer the blushing, naive bride my family had tried to con.
"Thank you for meeting me," Megan said, pushing a hot cup of tea toward me. "My dad wanted to come, but I told him I needed to handle this myself."
"How are you holding up?" I asked gently.
"I’m angry," she admitted honestly, her fingers tightening around her mug. "But mostly, I feel incredibly stupid. Ryan told me you were estranged from the family because you were jealous of his success. He told me you were 'unstable' and kept trying to insert yourself into our wedding planning to steal the spotlight."
I let out a dark laugh. "Jealous of his success? Megan, Ryan hasn't held a job for longer than six months in his entire life. The 'marketing consultancy' he runs out of his condo is completely funded by me. I paid his monthly retainer just so he could look like he had clients when he met your father."
Megan stared at me, her jaw dropping. "He told my dad he was pulling in two hundred thousand a year. My dad was about to bring him into the family real estate development business as an executive partner."
"That was the play," I explained, leaning forward. "My parents knew their own finances were failing. They knew Ryan was a financial black hole. They saw your family as a lifeline. If Ryan married you, your father would secure his future, and Ryan could start funneling your family’s money back to my parents to pay off their debts."
Megan shuddered, a look of profound disgust crossing her face. "It was a total setup. They didn't invite you to the wedding because they knew the second my dad started talking about Ryan's 'success' or the 'house mortgage' at the rehearsal dinner, you would have exposed the whole thing."
"Exactly," I said. "They needed me gone so the lie could survive until the marriage certificate was signed."
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"Well, the joke is on them," Megan said, a dangerous spark igniting in her eyes. She pulled a folder from her purse and slid it across the table to me. "My dad owns three of the commercial properties your father's architecture firm rents for their offices. And guess what? Your dad is two months behind on the lease payments for his main headquarters. My dad was giving him a pass because we were about to be family."
I looked at the lease documents, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Megan... how would you feel about doing a little real estate restructuring with me?"
