Chapter 4 - The Fall of Natalie
The rain in downtown Chicago was heavy and cold, washing the grease off the streets and turning the gray concrete into a mirror.
In her newly purchased penthouse, Natalie stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, her hand resting on her pregnant belly. She was wearing a silk robe, but the luxury of the apartment felt cold and empty.
Her phone had been ringing non-stop for three hours. Her brother, Robert, had been arrested, her bank accounts were frozen, and she had just received an eviction notice from the building's management, citing a violation of the lease terms regarding fraudulent financial documentation.
"He promised me we'd be rich," Natalie whispered, her voice trembling. "He said Audrey was a nobody. He said her grandfather was a ghost."
The doorbell rang.
Natalie jumped, her heart pounding. She walked slowly to the door, checking the security monitor. Standing in the hallway was not the police, but a delivery courier holding a large, white box with a beautiful red ribbon.
She unlocked the door, opening it a crack. "Yes?"
"Delivery for Natalie Chen," the courier said, handing her the box. "Please sign here."
Natalie signed the digital pad, took the box inside, and set it on her marble kitchen island. With trembling hands, she pulled the red ribbon and opened the lid.
Inside the box was the ivory cashmere maternity coat she had worn in the NICU.
It had been professionally cleaned, pressed, and folded. But the tiny 'L&C' initials embroidered inside had been neatly unstitched and replaced with a new, striking embroidery in gold thread:
A.P. — The Price of Theft is Ruin.
At the bottom of the box lay a white envelope. Natalie opened it, pulling out a single sheet of heavy cream paper with the Pendelton Enterprises letterhead.
Dear Natalie,
The apartment you are currently standing in was purchased with funds stolen from my family's trust. The mortgage has been foreclosed, and your personal belongings will be moved to a storage facility in upstate Illinois by tomorrow morning.
You believed Audrey was helpless because she had no one. But she has me. And she has the truth.
The state prosecutor has offered your brother, Robert, a plea deal. In exchange for a reduced sentence, he has agreed to testify that you were the mastermind behind the forgery of Audrey’s signature. Your trial begins in thirty days.
Enjoy the coat.
— Arthur Pendelton
Natalie let out a sharp, choked sob, dropping the letter to the floor. She ran to the window, looking down at the street, half-expecting to see police cruisers waiting for her.
But there were no cruisers. Just the rain, the cold gray city, and the realization that the wealthy, comfortable life she had stolen had vanished like a puff of smoke.
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She collapsed onto the plush white sofa, her hand clutching her stomach as she wept, her tears soaking into the silk of her robe. She had wanted to be a high-society wife, to wear designer clothes and look down on the sweet, quiet woman Dominic had married.
Instead, she was pregnant, broke, and facing five years in a state women's correctional facility.
