Chapter 4 Destroy Me

Remembering my purpose for entering, I ignored the strangeness and approached the safe box. I entered the code and opened it. There should have been velvet boxes of various sizes and colors inside. What appeared before me was an empty vault.

My knees buckled, but I braced myself. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My hands trembled as I fingered the drawers. My vision wasn't wrong. The safe was empty. There wasn't a single jewelry box left.

"No... It can't be happening..." I shook my head. "This can't be happening to me..." I looked around me.

I understood what had changed. The special edition of clothes, bags, shoes, and other luxurious belongings that were supposed to be in the room were gone. They only left clothes that were not as expensive as the limited collections.

"Please..." I still had hope.

I dragged my feet to another room, Cullen's closet. After opening the door, the lights turned on automatically. I took in my surroundings with a broken heart. It was empty. They left nothing.

"No..." I collapsed on the floor, unable to bear the weight of my body. "Nooo...!!!"

I patted my sore left chest. My hands gripped the carpet tightly, not caring if it broke my manicured nails. I wanted to scream with all my might, but could only open my mouth wide without making a sound.

The pain was excruciating. I was trying to digest my husband's sudden death when his mother took my son away from me. I didn't have time to grieve because I had to do something to take him home before it was too late.

However, I lost all avenues to fight for Keane. I had no property. The house and car were in Cullen's name. Bridget snatched my expensive jewelry and possessions. She repossessed my family's hotel. How did I bring my son home?

I went to Channing's house and watched it from afar. My chest ached. My son was so close, but I couldn't see or hold him. Both my breasts were sore because I wasn't pumping milk.

I woke up in the morning on the couch. Looking at the pump on my chest, I must have fallen asleep after the pain subsided. I took it off, dumped the milk into the sink, and cleaned the device. I wiped away my tears. There was no time to cry.

I hadn't lost. I had other ways. My work experience and education were enough to get a job. I cleaned up, put on makeup, did my hair, and wore my best clothes.

I called some of my best friends to meet up. We set a time and place, and I wrote it on my agenda. My first appointment was at lunchtime. I had time to solve other matters before the meeting.

After buying breakfast and finishing it in the car, I went to the police station. I hadn't found out what had happened to Cullen. None of the officers spoke to me. They might have reported it to his parents.

An officer pointed towards a room to ask for that information. I went there and saw Bridget and Sean talking to a police officer. They walked towards me. I smiled, greeting them.

Bridget scoffed. "If you think you can get Cullen's life insurance money, stop dreaming. You won't get a dime," she mocked. "Go home. Look for a new husband and get out of my son's house. I wondered. What kind of man would marry a scandalous and deceitful woman?"

"Honey," Sean interrupted.

"You can destroy me, Bridget. I humbly accept your anger, but involving Keane is so low. You're too honorable to resort to such dirty tricks. A child grows best if he's with his mother, not someone else," I stated.

Bridget chuckled. "Have you forgotten? We're his grandparents, not anyone else. Besides, what have you done for Keane? Only give him your egg? Stay away. I don't want my grandson to become a bad person like you."

She pushed me. "Be grateful that I gave you a place to stay. Stop seeing me or my family. If you try to make trouble, I'll ruin your life. I'll do anything to protect my family."

"I'm a mother too, Bridget. I'll do anything for my son. If you think you can separate us, stop dreaming," I retorted.

"What can you do?" Bridget challenged me. "You have nothing other than those things attached to your body." She took Sean's hand. "Come on, darling. Let's celebrate our freedom from the woman who killed our son."

"What?" I said in disbelief.

I clenched my fists as I watched her and her husband leave. Her bodyguards prevented me from following them. I glared at the man before turning around and walking towards the room I wanted to go to.

"Good morning. May I help you?" the officer said kindly.

"I'm Darcy Channing, Cullen Channing's wife. The man who died in an accident," I introduced myself.

"Oh. Do you want to know the progress of our investigation?" the man guessed. He continued after I nodded, "We've forwarded the file to the insurance company. We closed the case today."

"What happened? How did my husband get into an accident?" I asked curiously.

"The car Cullen Channing was driving crashed into a store wall to avoid a pedestrian on a crosswalk. Luckily, there were no other victims even though the sidewalk was busy that afternoon. The ambulance had trouble rescuing him due to heavy traffic. That might be one of the factors that led the medics to be too late to help him," he said with concern.

"Thank you, sir. I'll take my leave," I muttered.

I walked towards the front door and couldn't dismiss the cop's report. Why did Cullen drive his car? He had a driver. Where was that man? The cop's demeanor was suspicious. Did they hide something from me?

I headed to the insurance office. Seeing Bridget and Sean there, I wasn't surprised. They must have come after the police station. I waited for them to leave in the corridor where they wouldn't pass through.

After almost an hour in the room, Cullen's parents came out. They shook a woman's hand before leaving. I watched from where I stood. Both of them looked happy. It was strange, considering they had just lost their only son.

They might laugh at me for not getting a share of my husband's life insurance claim. I ignored that and walked towards the office. A woman greeted me and invited me to sit down.

"You must want to claim Mr. Cullen Channing's insurance," the woman guessed.

"I'm not. I want to know who his beneficiary is," I corrected.

"He wrote Darcy Channing's name, but you can only claim it if your marriage reaches its fifth anniversary. We're sorry," the woman explained with concern.

Of course, it was. That little notation was in Cullen's will. My husband wouldn't do that. Bridget might order Cullen's lawyer to write that point. I should have told him to find a different lawyer, not the one from his family.

Remembering my lunch appointment, I headed to the restaurant and fixed my makeup. The waiter escorted me to my reserved table when I mentioned my name. I smiled that my best friend had arrived first.

"Hi, Frida," I greeted her.

"Hi, Darcy. I'm glad you're out of the house again." She kissed me on both cheeks and invited me to sit down.

We ordered food and drinks and started chatting after the waiter left us. Frida shared that her boutique business had just opened its tenth branch in another state. I was happy to hear that because I had a great opportunity.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Frida said with concern. "Recruitment for my new branch is closed. We selected new employees a few weeks ago."

"What about the other branches or the head office in the city? Do you have a position for me? I wouldn't mind being a sales associate or any lowly position," I said.

"I'd love to help, but I'm not in charge of recruitment. At our meeting last week, HRD didn't mention the need for new employees," she regretted.

I smiled. "I understand. Let me know if you need any employees," I pleaded.

Frida smiled. "I will. Did something happen? Cullen didn't leave you an inheritance?"

I changed the subject to avoid answering that question. I thought Frida was my best friend. We'd been close since Cullen and I got married. The woman was kind to me. It seemed she only wanted to be my friend when I had money.

When paying, we both presented our cards to the waiter. Frida gently pushed my hand and held her card out to the man. I didn't give up until the waiter took my debit card and left.

"I asked you to meet, so I paid," I insisted.

"You're making me feel like I owe you. We should meet again, and I'll pay," Frida suggested.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." The waiter returned. He handed me my card. "They rejected this card. Is there another one?"