“Since we have witnesses,” Elara said calmly, “perhaps we should discuss the federal fraud you’re committing by claiming a widow’s pension for a husband who is still alive.”
The room went deathly silent as Martha’s face turned a ghostly shade of white.
“I also have the records of Dante’s undeclared income and your illegal catering business,” Elara added. “If either of you threatens my daughter or my job again, I’m handing these files to the IRS and the police.”
The neighbors scrambled to leave, clearly terrified of being caught in the crossfire. Martha stood frozen, looking like a cornered animal for the first time in her life.
Dante came home late that night, but he didn’t scream or throw anything. He just sat in the dark and stared at Elara with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You have no idea what you’ve just started,” he whispered.
Two days later, the sound of heavy knocking woke the entire household at dawn. It wasn’t a neighbor; it was a team of federal investigators and tax officials with a search warrant.
Martha stood in her bathrobe, shaking as they began hauling away her ledgers and laptop. Dante immediately turned his fury on Elara.