Chapter 4 - The Betrayal of Daniel Vance
Amidst the screaming investors and panicking family members, Daniel Vance stood frozen like a statue carved from ice.
He looked at my father, then looked at me standing wrapped in my father’s expensive wool coat, and finally realized the horrifying, catastrophic math of his own stupidity.
For three years, Daniel had watched his mother and sister treat me like dirt. He had watched them mock my clothes, dismiss my background, and laugh at my quiet demeanor. He had believed every word of their delusion—that I was a penniless, struggling nobody whom he had rescued out of charity.
He never wondered why I lived in a modest apartment before we married, ignoring the fact that I chose to live simply because I wanted a normal life away from corporate spotlights. He never questioned why my father’s name was never mentioned, assuming I was estranged from my family.
And now, the truth was standing right in front of him, wearing a multi-million-dollar suit and holding the keys to his entire family’s financial execution.
Daniel took two trembling steps forward, his eyes wide with desperate pleading.
“V-Vivienne…” Daniel whispered, his voice cracking pathetically. “Vivienne, darling… you didn't tell me. If I had known your father was… if I had known you were a Sterling… I never would have allowed my mother and sister to treat you like that. You know I love you. We’re married. We’re a team.”
I looked at my husband—the man who, less than twenty minutes ago, had handed my purse to his sister, watched her dump my belongings on the floor, and stood by in silent compliance while his mother ripped the clothes off his eight-month-pregnant wife.
A cold, dead anger filled the space where love used to be.
“You watched your mother rip my dress, Daniel,” I said, my voice cutting through his pathetic pleas with absolute clarity. “You watched your sister humiliate me in front of two hundred people. And instead of defending your wife and your unborn child, you handed them my bag like an obedient little servant.”
“I was confused! I panicked!” Daniel sobbed, dropping to his knees on the marble floor, reaching out to grab the hem of my coat. “Family pressure… you know how my mother is—!”
“Don't touch her,” my father commanded, stepping forward and placing his heavy hand over Daniel’s wrist, squeezing just hard enough to make Daniel gasp in pain.
Richard looked down at my husband with undisguised contempt.
“Mr. Vance,” Richard said coldly, “you spent three years treating my daughter like garbage because you thought she was a financial burden. You’ll be thrilled to learn that your financial burden is now your executioner.”
Richard turned to his lead legal advisor. “Serve him the papers.”
The advisor stepped forward, opening a leather portfolio and pulling out two crisp, legal documents, dropping them onto the marble floor directly in front of Daniel’s knees.
Daniel looked down at the papers. The bold heading at the top read: PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE AND EXPEDITED ASSET FREEZE.
“An annulment and divorce petition,” Richard stated flatly. “Filed on grounds of extreme emotional cruelty, physical endangerment of an unborn child, and marital abandonment. Furthermore, since you signed a prenuptial agreement drafted by my corporate attorneys three years ago—a prenuptial agreement you never bothered to read because you were too busy bragging about your family’s status—you leave this marriage with exactly what you brought into it: the clothes on your back.”
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Daniel stared at the papers, his jaw unhinged, realizing that his life, his career, his family’s empire, and his marriage had completely evaporated in less than fifteen minutes.
“No…” Daniel wept, rocking back on his heels, burying his face in his hands as the reality of his utter ruin settled over him. “No, please… Vivienne, don't do this… please…”
