"What are you staring at? Do your job, you wretches!" Josephine screeched, reclining on my leather sofa. "I am the mistress of this house now."
I dialed the precinct directly.
"Yes, I'd like to report a break-in and trespassing."
Ryan was already in a holding cell. Only right to send his mother to join him. A family should stick together.
I tapped my earpiece. "Monitor the situation. Itemize everything that woman touched, ate, or wore. I want full compensation for every item."
"Understood, Mr. Weiss."
"Not a penny less."
I retreated to my downtown penthouse, a sanctuary Mila rarely bothered to visit. I shed my jacket, loosened my tie, and poured a glass of whiskey.
Two sips in, the front door slammed open.
Mila stormed in, eyes blazing. She grabbed a crystal vase from the console table and hurled it at me.
I sidestepped. The crystal shattered against the wall.
"David Weiss, are you fucking insane?" she shrieked. "Why did you call the police on Ryan and his mother? They didn't steal anything! How dare you have them arrested?"
Her voice was shrill. She looked deranged—hair wild, face flushed with misplaced righteousness.
I swirled the whiskey, watching the liquid catch the light.