The Trash Son-in-law Is A Hidden Billionaire

Chapter Twelve

Thrown out of the hall, Charlotte stormed toward the parking lot, her heels clacking against the pavement. The cool, crisp air hit her face, but it did little to ease the humiliation burning inside her.

She dug through her purse with shaky hands, muttering curses under her breath.

“Charlotte, are you alright?”

She froze for a moment, then turned, her hardened expression softening a bit. “Daniel? What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked slightly as she tried her best to maintain her calm.

Her phone buzzed suddenly interrupting them. Without checking the screen, she answered.

“Hello?” she spoke.

“This is Officer Jacob from the Central Precinct. Are you Mrs. Beatrice’s daughter?” the caller asked.

“Yes, I am,” she replied, her stomach churning. 'Why are the police calling me? Could it be that the IPO has already made their move?' She was worried.

“You’ll need to come and bail her out,” the officer said.

Her heart skipped a beat. “My mother?”

“Yes, ma’am. She and a few others were caught trespassing,” the officer replied.

“Trespassing?” she froze, disbelief flashing across her face. “Okay… I’ll be there soon.” 

She disconnected the call and turned to Daniel anxiously. “Please come with me. It’s my mom, they’ve arrested her.” 

“They arrested her?” Daniel’s face showed clear surprise. “Alright, let’s go immediately. Tell me what happened on the way”

The two got into the car and drove to the police station in a hurry.

****

Inside the holding cell

“Listen to me, officer. This must be some sort of mistake. We weren’t trespassing. The apartment is my son-in-law’s marital home—I even have the key card! How is it possible that I’m trespassing?” Beatrice pleaded, her voice desperate.

“Shut up there!” the officer barked. “I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

“But… but I’m telling the truth! You can just call him and ask. I know my son-in-law, he’s not a liar.”

The officer gave her a hard stare.

Beatrice’s knees buckled, and she sank weakly onto the cold floor. Her hair was disheveled and tangled, completely stripped of its usual grace and polish.

“Officer, listen to us! This has nothing to do with us in the first place—it was her idea to bring us there. We didn’t even know it wasn’t her apartment. Can’t you just let us go?” her friends protested nervously. None of them wanted to be dragged down with her.

They didn’t look any better themselves. Their hair was messy and unkempt, and their clothes were wrinkled and untidy.

The officer slammed his baton against the iron bars, creating a loud metallic bang.

Silence filled the cell. None of them dared to speak again.

'It’s all her fault. Her stupid showing off landed us in this mess,' they cursed inwardly.

The officer stood there for a few minutes, his cold gaze sweeping over them. Once satisfied that they’d quieted down, he turned and walked away.

The once noble-looking woman, now with smeared lipstick and hair sticking out like a bird’s nest, hissed under her breath.

“This is all your fault, Beatrice,” she snapped, glaring at her. “If you hadn’t tried to show off with a fake wedding home, none of this would’ve happened!” she stood up glaring at Beatrice.

“Exactly!” another woman added sharply. “You claimed your son-in-law owned the apartment, and now look at us—detained like common thieves! Blatant liar! You even have the guts to try to open someone else’s house with a fake card. Shameless!”

Beatrice’s face flushed red. She was shocked by how quickly her friends had turned against her. They had always fawned over and praised her, but now every time they opened their mouths, it was only to hurl foul words at her.

“How dare you talk to me like that? You’re all hypocrites! Friends when things are fine, enemies when they get rough. Two-faced bitches!” she shouted furiously.

“What did you just call us?” The blonde who had been silent all this while stood up, her face twisted with anger.

Beatrice didn’t back down. “I said you’re a two-faced bitches! What are you going to do about it?" She taunted.

The blonde lunged forward, grabbing Beatrice’s hair and yanking it hard. “Say it again!”

Enraged, Beatrice clawed back at her, pulling her clothes and scratching her face. “You’re all two-faced bitches!” she screamed.

The others quickly joined in. They had been furious with Beatrice all day and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take revenge on her for dragging them into her mess—and even calling them bitches to their faces.

The cell turned into chaos as the women clawed, pulled, and yanked each other’s hair. Beatrice was soon overwhelmed, alone against all of them.

“Help! Murder! They’re trying to kill me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The police rushed in, unlocked the cell, and separated the fighting women.

Beatrice huffed and cursed, only to look up and see her daughter, Charlotte, standing at the door with her fiancé, Daniel. Her face immediately brightened.

“Charlotte, baby, thank God you’re here! Please get me out of this godforsaken place!”

*****

Inside the service hall

Beatrice sat on a bench with an ice pack pressed against her swollen cheek, which looked painfully distorted.

“What is this, Mother?” Charlotte snapped. “You never stop causing problems for me! I barely have time to breathe with how busy I am every day, and now I have to waste more time cleaning up your mess!”

“It’s not my fault,” Beatrice muttered. “The security guards insisted I was trespassing and called the police.”

“Just listen to yourself!” Charlotte’s anger flared even more. “Are you insane? You actually broke into someone’s house? What if the owner had a gun and shot you on the spot? Do you have a death wish, Mother?”

Beatrice grew flustered. She wanted to explain, but then remembered Daniel had told her not to mention anything about the wedding home, since he wanted it to be a surprise for Charlotte.

'But if I stayed quiet, Charlotte would only get angrier and keep blaming'

She took a shaky breath. “This is all a misunderstanding,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “That house… it isn’t what you were thinking. It’s your wedding home—Daniel bought it for both of you.”

Charlotte froze. “What did you just say?”