Chapter 6 - THE MISTRESS’S RECKONINGAt nine o'clock the following morning, the quiet peace of the apartment was broken by a sudden knock at the door.

Natalie’s private security officer checked the camera feed, then turned to Natalie with a surprised expression. "It's a young woman. She says her name is Tessa Miller. She's alone, and she's demanding to see Mrs. Vance."

I stood up from the breakfast table, where I had been feeding Lily her morning oatmeal. "Let her in."

"Clara, you don't have to face her," Natalie warned softly. "I can have security remove her from the property immediately."

"No," I said, my voice firm and steady. "I want to hear what she has to say."

A moment later, the door opened, and Tessa Miller stepped into the penthouse suite.

She looked entirely different from the smug, pristine woman who had walked into my dining room eighteen hours ago. Her blow-dried hair was messy, her designer makeup was smudged beneath her eyes, and she was clutching an expensive leather handbag against her stomach like a shield.

She looked around the luxury apartment, her eyes widening in disbelief as she realized I was not cowering in a cheap motel room.

"Where is the money, Clara?" Tessa blurted out, her voice high-pitched and breathless, devoid of any of the smooth charm she had possessed the night before.

I walked slowly over to the kitchen island, leaning against the counter, looking at her with quiet amusement. "Good morning to you too, Tessa."

"Don't play games with me!" Tessa demanded, taking a step forward until Natalie’s security officer stepped quietly into her path. "Grant’s business accounts are locked! My personal checking account was frozen three hours ago! The bank told me it was tied to an ongoing federal tax fraud investigation involving Vanguard Operations! What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything, Tessa," I answered calmly. "I simply stopped covering for my husband's illegal financial choices."

"He told me you were stupid!" Tessa cried out, her voice cracking with pure panic. "He told me you were just an unemployed housewife who didn't understand business! He promised me that if I put the South Carolina deeds in my name, we would be set for life after the divorce!"

I looked at this twenty-five-year-old girl, seeing the exact same pattern of manipulation Grant had used on me six years ago. He had offered her wealth, status, and security, making her feel special while using her as an unwitting accomplice in his financial crimes.

"Grant used you, Tessa," I said softly, feeling a sudden, unexpected pang of pity for her. "He didn't put those deeds in your name to make you rich. He put them in your name so that if the IRS ever audited his firm, you would be the one facing federal tax evasion charges, not him."

Tessa’s face drained of all color. Her lips began to tremble as the horrifying reality of her situation sank in.

"No... no, that's not true," she stammered, backing away toward the door. "Grant loves me! He's going to marry me!"

"Grant loves Grant," I corrected her gently. "And right now, Grant is in his attorney's office trying to figure out how to blame you for Vanguard Operations so he can save his own skin."

Tessa grabbed her phone with shaking hands, scrolling through her messages. "He... he hasn't answered my texts since seven this morning."

"Because his criminal attorney told him to cut all communication with you," Natalie chimed in from her desk, her voice cold and professional. "Miss Miller, as Mrs. Vance's legal counsel, I strongly advise you to leave this building immediately, walk straight to the federal courthouse downtown, and hire the best defense attorney you can afford. Because when the state revenue department finishes reviewing these files, Grant won't be buying you a house—he'll be trying to give you a prison sentence."

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Tessa stared at us in absolute terror. The reality of her magnificent, golden life as a wealthy developer's mistress had completely vanished, replaced by the cold, terrifying shadow of federal prosecution.

Without another word, she turned and ran out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.