Ritah’s release came just as the lunch hour kicked in at the police station. The woman she had struck was sitting at a detective’s desk, signing off the last paperwork as she was not pressing charges. This was thanks to the 500,000 million dollar pay off she had accepted.
But Ritah was far from humbled after a night in a police cell. As soon as the ink dried on the paperwork, her voice ricocheted off the walls. "Do you people realize what you have done? Do you know who I am? I am the real Dane heiress! Now embarrassing pictures of me are out everywhere. I have become a joke!" She jabbed a finger at the woman she had assaulted.
"And you--how dare you threaten to sue me? Shameless mistress! I caught you in the act, throwing yourself at my boyfriend." Ritah flipped her hair back. "You poor women are all the same, trying to climb the hierarchy ladder by selling your cheap bodies. You should be grateful to me for hitting you! Half a million for a scratch? You are welcome!?
The detective who had just wrapped up the case looked at Ritah in amazement. He had a feeling she would be back here very soon, if this was how she conducted herself.
Heimi slapped her hand over Ritah’s mouth. "Ritah, stop it right now," she snapped.
The officers, seasoned in handling tantrums and managing the rich, pretended to be busy with paperwork. Some tapped at keyboards. Some took calls. Others shuffled files while Ritah’s shrieks filled the air again as Heimi failed in her mission to keep her daughter’s mouth closed.
A reporter leaning against the reception desk had a notebook out, eyes gleaming with anticipation. This was gold--scandal rekindled.
James Dane grabbed Ritah’s arm, pulling her towards the station bathroom. The rest of their family followed, including Stephen, their grandfather, who had come with a bible and the gospel of forgiveness.
"Do you realize what you have done?" James snapped at Ritah. "The company stocks have suffered as a result of your silly tantrum. A business like ours thrives on reputation."
Ritah brushed his words off casually. "Oh please, what does food have to do with reputation? I hit a woman who was seducing my boyfriend. I didn’t put a rat in one of our kitchens. The company will survive."
James couldn’t believe his sister’s stupidity and nonchalant attitude.
Alden grabbed Ritah’s shoulders. "Shut up, you lunatic. The company is preparing to launch a franchise model. With a bad reputation, do you think anyone will be willing to invest their money? I have worked way too hard for this business to be ruined by a clueless little girl throwing a jealous tantrum." He ushered Ritah toward the exit, then paused and shoved a folded sheet into her hand. "You will read this to the press outside. It’s an apology."
Ritah’s hand clenched around the paper. "I refuse. I will not apologize. I was right."
Alden grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I sometimes wish you had even just one percent of Claire’s brains. I am warning you right now, if you refuse to do as I say, I will cancel all of your cards. Every account will be frozen. I will sell every property I have given to you. Maybe once you go back to living the way you did before I found out that you are my daughter, you will come to your senses.
That threat pierced her bravado. Ritah’s face twisted, but she relented. "Fine. I will read it." Apologizing was better than poverty.
The whole family stepped out. Immediately, the press swarmed. Cameras flashed, microphones were thrust forward. Ritah stepped onto the station steps, tears streaking her cheeks.
She began haltingly: "I... I am sorry for my actions last night. They are not a reflection of me, my family or what Alden and Heimi foods stand for. I have been battling with alcohol, insecurity and depression, which clouded my judgement."
Just when Alden was ready to release a pent-up breath, Ritah veered off script.
Her voice rose, trembling with emotion. "You don’t understand what it’s like to be me. To grow up poor, in a family that is not your own. In a family where boys are favored over girls. I worked harder than anyone, but I was always overlooked. Do you know what it’s like to be invisible?"
"What is she doing?" James hissed.
Alden was whispering for her to stop, but Ritah would not be stopped. The reporters leaned in, thrilled. The real and fake Dane heiress scandal that had been fading was suddenly ablaze again.
Ritah’s narrative was irresistible. It was the kind of salacious news that made front page news. She painted herself as a victim and survivor, weaving a tale of betrayal, hardship and ambition.
Her tears glistened under the midday sun. "Even after my return, I am constantly compared to my cousin. It’s not an excuse but if I lash out, it’s because I am carrying a lot of pain and anger. Some of you are calling me violent online, but I call myself desperate. Desperate for love. Desperate for approval. Desperate to be worthy of my true identity. Desperate to hold on to what I now have. And desperation makes people do things they regret."
The crowd murmured, cameras clicking furiously. Ritah’s apology transformed into a performance.
"Perhaps, if I had been raised like Claire Dane, my cousin, I would be just like her." Ritah wiped her tears, sniffling softly. "I would be calm, dignified, well educated, charming and a worthy businesswoman. But her parents didn’t raise me like that. I don’t blame them because they did the best with what little they had. And I am not telling anyone to blame them either. I am just asking for some understanding. Before you judge me, consider my circumstances."
Alden swooped in, pushing Ritah to the side. Immediately, he started talking about the company, listing its accomplishments and announcing the grand franchising plan.
Inside her home, Claire watched the dramatic apology on the big TV. Leaning against the kitchen door, Wilder shouted curses and threw a tomato at the wall. Claire’s jaw tightened. She had endured enough of Ritah’s chaos. Enough of the lies, the insults, the public humiliation.