A Blind Fall

chapter thirty two

Maureen Sylvester took in what was once the most beautiful and expensive home in Mountain Green and felt her soul sink to hell. The army of workers and maids were long gone and the evidence was overgrown grass, unkempt lawns, cobwebs in some areas and dirt and dust in most rooms of the sixteen bedrooms mansion. The valuables that hadn't been auctioned when their financial crisis hit and remained longer than anticipated were covered in white cloths. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling of her once immaculate living room and even the six figure chandelier lost its pristiness to birds as they created habitation where the spiders hadn't.

As a very social woman, appearances mattered and keeping up with extravagant trends guaranteed respect from her social circles. And especially it maintained her place in those women groups such as donor groups and most especially travel clubs and recreational country clubs. Those snobbish wives of the wealthy had no tolerance for one that had fallen from grace and so Maureen was left to wallow in her damaged life by herself. At first she'd tried to keep it all hidden from the prying eyes of onlookers but everything had spiralled out of her control and her nightmare was aired for all to see. And now she was without money and she couldn't even lift her eyes up in public after such an ignominy.

It had all started when that once-a-maid-of-hers came back from the dead to steal her family's company. At first Daniel and their sons had been able to salvage the situation and they'd been partners with that cursed family; the Mayors. But occurrences that had led to both their sons abandoning the business altogether had been the beginning of the end for Maureen's prestigious life.

With Morgan choosing to elope with a woman so unpleasant looking and Oscar too opinionated about forging his own path, they had left without a backward glance. Maureen had had to  discover a means to keep it all together and she'd followed her daughter to Italy where her brothers had set her up as she'd be the easiest to manipulate into returning home. But much to her disappointment, Debra had long settled and ventured into real estate and grown a brain a bit impossible to sway. And then she'd slipped from her fingers and like her sons, that ungreatful child had cut communication with her parents.

And now Daniel had fallen into depression and spent every second chugging down whiskey with a haunted look on his face, having given up on hope as it turned out that Rose Mayor with the backing of her father and brother had been able to force Daniel to sell the entire business to them. Maureen didn't know her husband like that, as the quitting type. There was more to it. More to why he hadn't put up a fight when his lifelong labour was confiscated from him.

Her nightmarish thoughts stumbled to a stop as she reached what used to be Daniel's study but was now a full-time bar. Placing her hand on the dusty handle, she turned it and pushed the heavy door open all the while bracing herself for the stench of alcohol and vomit. Her eyes scanned the scene that certified their downfall before settling on the ghost of her once headstrong, ambitious and aggressive husband. The father of her children lowered to peasantry.

The image gnawed at her heart and she felt her own will to fight shrink a bit. She was hanging on a thread and if she didn't do something about it, that was that. Edging closer to his slumped form on the floor, she inspected his soiled clothes that were as creased as the lines on his forehead and eyes making him age at least three decades than necessary.

In her mind she tried to recall when he didn't look like this. When he was a strong representative of masculinity. When he'd been a strapping youth with his whole life ahead of him. But she couldn't seem to as she flashed back to a time when she was a young lady in her early twenties with dreams of a good life and raising a family with a man so tall and handsome and witty. She recalled with a ghostly smile her desire to be his, to have his name. Mrs Archibald John Mayor. Even now the possibility brought shivers to her body as it did then.

But that man had been blind to her, his eyes only for Elena, that slymy whore that had snatched her dreams from her causing her to settle for less. Settle for another that was also hooked on her like a drug while she lived happily with the man Maureen wanted. With Archibald Mayor. A man who until now looked dashing and had over the years accumulated more money than he knew what to do with. A man that was meant to be hers. But Maureen had ensured that she paid her due. Even as she subjected herself to being with Daniel -a man whose entirety was dedicated to becoming Archibald so he could earn Elena's attention- she had made sure not to let that whore get away with it.

She'd remained friends with Elena so as to not be suspected when she eventually made her pay the piper. So she'd sent a hitman after her but like all men that fool fell for her charm and had preferred taking her. But much to Maureen's joy it had worked out better than death. That day had marked the end of her flowers and constant jabbering about how happy she and Archie were, to Maureen. She'd become a shell of herself and wouldn't be the same until she realized what she ultimately deserved was death and had taken her own life. For the first time in a long time Maureen's lips curled in a sardonic smile.

Still crouched down next to a drunk Daniel, too lost in that moment of bliss, she was caught unaware when a hand gripped her neck and squeezed. "D... Dan... Daniel." She wheezed through a constricted throat. "S...top."

"It was your fault," he sounded so menacing even as he slurred a bit in his words. "Everything was your fault! I have waited a lifetime to do this."

Slowly as he added more pressure on her neck, he pushed her to the ground on her back so that her head hit the ground and lay atop of his emptied stomach contents. As she fought to pry his strong hold off her that was quickly cutting her air supply, Maureen discovered he was on a mission to end her. Her feet kicked and thrust as he straddled her, gaining more access to her neck and forcing his fingers deeper into her skin. His eyes though beet red from drinking nonstop they held no emotion as he squeezed the life out of her.

"You thought I'd never discover what a monster you are, you murderer!" He yelled, his spit plashing on her face. "You had my Elena murdered. The love of my life and then you took her place by my side when you couldn't snare yourself Archibald, you rotten woman!"

Her vision was beginning to blur and and be filled with black spots. Her air supply was short almost nonexistent as her eyes dilated and her skin paled. Her legs weren't strong enough to kick as hard as before and the man atop her, the man she'd been married to for three decades and had three children with was determined to be the one to escort her out of the world. All because of that woman who continued to ruin her even from the grave. 

Maureen couldn't and wouldn't exit like that. She had to prove to all those that talked behind her back and laughed at her misfortune that she was a refined woman and her place was at the very summit of success and high society. But first she had to stay alive. She had to get rid of the anchor that was Daniel, that kept sinking her down.

"Now you'll die too," Daniel was saying.

She wished to correct him and tell him that she wasn't going to kick the bucket just yet but her voice came out a painful gasp and she knew she was running out of time. Hence she stopped fighting, instead her hand found a bottle of whiskey lying next to her fading body and forced her fingers to throttle the neck of it. With all the strength and might she could gather, she lifted it and lowered it on his head, cracking his skull. He hollered in agony as his body collapsed from off of her and in that opportune time she pulled herself up to a kneeling position before using the same bottle to thwack his head again. This time around with a force that left his body limp and lifeless.

Staggering to her feet she sneered at his dead form, murder weapon in her tremulous hand. If there was no murder weapon, there was no evidence and the last piece of art in the house was a plane ticket to Paris. That ungreatful daughter of hers was her meal ticket. Debra's real estate business was not enough to return Maureen to glory but that son of hers was the key to treasure doors.

"It's time for family reunion, grandson." And she erupted into an evil laughter, it reverberated in the enormous room in sickeningly.