I stormed out of the green room, the tablet still clutched in my hand. Leo followed close behind, his small frame radiating a fierce protectiveness.
Richard, halfway down the corridor leading to Stage 4, spun around as he heard my footsteps. His face was pale, his composure finally cracking.
“You absolute monster,” I hissed, pushing him back against a rack of sparkly, discarded prop costumes. A sequined hat tumbled to the floor.
“Maya, listen to me,” Richard pleaded, his eyes darting up and down the empty hall. He was worried about being seen, not about what he’d done.
“Listen to you?” My voice rose, raw with years of suppressed fury. “Twelve thousand dollars a month, Richard. Twelve thousand! You funneled it through your shell company while I worked myself to death!”
He winced, his gaze fixed on my hand holding the tablet. “It was… an executive management fee. Standard practice for high-profile clients.”
“I am not a client,” I spat. “I am your stepdaughter. And Diana is your wife!”
He put his hands up, a gesture of surrender that felt entirely fake. “Look, I know this looks bad. But you need to understand the arrangements. Everything is legally bound.”
“Legally bound?” I felt a hysterical laugh bubble up. “What, you’ve legally bound yourself to steal from us?”
His eyes hardened. The desperation vanished, replaced by a cold, familiar calculation.
“You want to play hardball, Maya?” he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “Fine. But remember, I am Diana’s legal trustee. I hold her medical power of attorney. If you cause a scene right now, if you try to expose me before this show, I will use that power.”
My blood ran cold. “Use it how?”
“I’ll have Diana moved,” he said, his voice flat. “Out of Burbank Meadows. Into a state facility four hours away. The kind you can’t visit more than once a month, if that.”
He watched my face, seeing the impact of his words. He knew my absolute weakness: my mother’s safety and my ability to be there for her.
“I’ll make sure your access to her medical records is completely cut off, too,” he added, twisting the knife. “Just like I blocked your access to her actual bank statements for the last two years. All perfectly within my rights as her appointed medical proxy.”
He had already done it. He hadn’t just used his power for kickbacks; he’d used it to keep me blind, to ensure I couldn’t see the real financial statements, couldn’t truly scrutinize the costs.
The weight of his control, the sheer depth of his calculated cruelty, pressed down on me. He wasn’t just stealing money; he was stealing my mother, piece by piece, and weaponizing my love against me.
A floor manager in a headset hurried past, glancing nervously at us before scurrying into the stage area. Time was ticking.
Richard smiled, a thin, chilling smile. “Think about it, Maya. Is it worth risking your mother’s care just for a few extra dollars?”
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