Chapter 7 - The Downfall of Eleanor Vance
While Alistair and Emily planned the blueprint for the new bakery inside the quiet dining room, the outside world was spinning out of control for Eleanor Vance.
By sunrise, the front pages of every major newspaper and financial blog across the country featured bold, screaming headlines:
BILLIONAIRE ALISTAIR STERLING SHUTS DOWN LUXURY RESTAURANT AFTER SOCIALITE ATTACKS LATE MOTHER’S PROTEGE.
ELEANOR VANCE’S CHARITY FOUNDATION FROZEN UNDER FEDERAL MONEY LAUNDERING INVESTIGATION.
THE FALL OF A QUEEN: HOW A RIPPED UNIFORM BROUGHT DOWN A HIGH-SOCIETY DYNASTY.
Eleanor sat in the sterile holding cell of the municipal precinct, dressed in the same emerald silk gown, now wrinkled, stained, and utterly ruined. Her diamond earrings had been confiscated during booking, her hair was wild, and her mascara was smeared across her face like charcoal.
Her phone—which had once buzzed incessantly with invitations to charity galas, exclusive board meetings, and private yacht parties—was sitting on a wooden intake desk in the hallway, completely silent.
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Harrison Vance had packed his bags at dawn, served her with divorce papers through a private courier, and boarded a private flight to Zurich, leaving her entirely alone to face the federal grand jury indictments.
She had spent her entire life stepping on people she deemed beneath her, believing her wealth, her pedigree, and her social status made her untouchable. She had laughed as she tore a poor girl’s uniform, never imagining that the tatters of that cheap cotton dress would become the rope that hanged her.
