Barbara chimed in from the side, saying, "Gabrielle, if you can't say anything good, just keep your mouth shut. You're such a downer. Besides, who would dare shut us down? Tom, keep going! I'd like to see which idiot tries to stop us!"
Tom saw the workers hesitating and yelled at Rex. "What are you staring at? Keep smashing! If anything happens, I'll handle it! I've got connections at the Housing Authority!"
The jackhammer roared to life again, even more violently than before.
Barbara looked at me with disgust and pointed toward the study. "Gabrielle, what's all that junk piled up in there? Clear it out right now! I need to put my automatic poker table in there."
The study was full of my professional books and several paintings my late father had left me. They were my most precious possessions.
In my past life, Barbara had clawed my face bloody when I tried to protect those things.
This time, I swallowed my rage and nodded with a smile. "You're right. Those books don't put food on the table. We're turning this place into a luxurious river-view apartment anyway, so what's the point of keeping all that junk around?"
I walked into the study and carried my dad's paintings and my books with me. Then, I organized them in a pile.
Barbara did not even glance at them and just kicked the pile toward the door like trash. She grumbled, "Throw them out! They're an eyesore!"
Tom walked over and deliberately picked up one of the paintings I had already packed. It was my dad's final work before he died.
He mocked, "How much could this scrap of paper be worth anyway? My cigarette pack probably has more value than this."
He tore the painting in half and casually threw it into the trash pile covered in cement dust.
I watched the torn paper, my nails digging deep into my palms. Tom had just deliberately destroyed my dad's painting right in front of me.
I said, "It's right to toss it. Out with the old, in with the new."
I silently crouched down, picked up the torn pieces of the painting, and stuffed them into my bag.
I thought, 'Tom, oh, Tom! You've made me completely give up on you.'
The building manager eventually came with security guards. However, with Tom's aggressive threats and Barbara's hysterical tantrums, they could not even get through the door.
Tom stood in the doorway holding a kitchen knife, claiming he would kill anyone who tried to enter.
The property manager was afraid that someone might get hurt, so they could only shut off the building's electricity.
Even so, that did not stop Rex. He illegally tapped into the emergency electrical box in the hallway, and the jackhammer kept roaring.
Half of the wall had already been smashed away. Without its support, small cracks began forming along the ceiling.
Rex wiped his sweat and looked at the thick rebar nervously. "Mr. Williams, this rebar is too dense. It's all primary structural steel. You really want it all cut? The floor above might collapse."
He wanted the money, but he did not want to die there, either.
Barbara was sitting on the couch eating chips, and when she heard that, she spat the whole mouthful on the floor.
"Cut them! Cut them all! What's the point of leaving those metal rods there? I want it open! I want a clear river view! You're a grown man, so why are you hesitating? Are you trying to squeeze more money out of us?"
I walked forward at just the right moment and handed Rex a cold energy drink.
Then, I turned to Tom and said, "Honey, Mr. Dawson's just worried about safety. After all, this is under-the-table work. If something really does go wrong, he's afraid of being liable for it. Why don't we sign a waiver for him? To prove that you insisted on this demolition, and it has nothing to do with them. That way, they can work without worrying and really get the job done right."
Tom's face showed a hint of hesitation. However, when he thought about what I had said earlier about the river-view apartment, the prestige, and being the only one in the entire building with such a view, his hesitation faded.
"Cowards! You're all cowards! Fine, I'll sign it! If anything happens, I'll take the blame! It's got nothing to do with you!"
He scribbled his name boldly across the paper.
I carefully collected the paper, folded it, and put it in my inside pocket. After finishing all that, I checked my phone.
The timing was just about right.
"Honey, the company just messaged me. They need me to go on a business trip out of state for a week. They said if I can close this big client, there's a 50-thousand-dollar bonus in it."
