Chapter 11
Victor didn’t look at Mrs. Watson again.
He simply pulled out his phone and called his lawyer.
“Get everything ready,” he said. “Vehicle damage, depreciation, emotional distress, lost time, every cent. If they can’t pay, file for asset preservation. Freeze the house. Auction it if you have to.”
“No! Not the house!”
Bobby, who had been hiding in the back until then, suddenly rushed forward.
That condo was supposed to be his future marital home. His only real asset. His last hope.
“Mom, this is all your fault!” he shouted, eyes red, jabbing a finger at her face. “I told you we could just go to a charging station. You had to save that little bit of money. You had to take advantage of her. Now look what happened! The house is gone! What am I supposed to do? Lily’s definitely going to dump me!”
Mrs. Watson stared at the son she had spent thirty years spoiling as if she were seeing him for the first time.
“Bobby… I did it for you,” she said weakly. “I only wanted to save money for you. I wanted you to have a better life.”
“For me?” he screamed. “You ruined my life! Why don’t you just die already?”
Then he shoved her.
Hard.
She fell backward and hit the concrete, her forehead splitting open. Blood ran down the side of her face.
But she barely seemed to feel it.
She only stared up at him, shattered.
“You hit me,” she whispered. “You actually hit me.”
Then mother and son exploded into a fight.
She clawed at his face, wailing.
He kicked at her like a man gone mad.
“Enough!”
Victor’s roar shook the garage.
“If you want to fight, do it outside. Don’t make my place filthy.”
Security rushed in to pull them apart.
Mrs. Watson’s hair was hanging loose, blood streaked across her face. Bobby’s shirt was torn, and he dropped to the floor in a miserable heap, covering his head and sobbing.
I looked at the whole ugly spectacle without feeling a thing.
Then I lifted my phone, took one picture of them, and posted it in the residents’ group chat with four words.
The truth is out.
The chat exploded instantly.
People who had insulted me either left the group or sent me private apologies.
I ignored every one of them.
People like that are weather vanes. They don’t deserve acknowledgment.
And the aftermath moved even faster than I expected.
Victor Vega was exactly the kind of man who did what he said he would do.