Chapter 7 - The Morning After
Sunlight poured through the Palladian windows of my country estate, casting warm, golden rays across the polished hardwood floors. I sat at the kitchen island, sipping my tea and reviewing the digital edition of the morning financial journal.
On page three, nestled quietly beneath a major corporate acquisition announcement, was a small society column blurb:
“Whispers at L’Étoile last night suggest that high-society darling Amber Herrera and her corporate executive husband, Steven Herrera, experienced a rather dramatic financial interruption during their fifth wedding anniversary dinner. Sources report multiple card declines, an unpaid eighty-seven-thousand-dollar bill, and a swift departure escorted by venue security. Representatives for Bennett Enterprises declined to comment on the couple's current executive standing.”
Society moves fast. The moment power and money evaporate, the vultures scatter to find a fresher carcass.
My phone rang again. It wasn't Steven this time. It was Arthur Vance, my brother and the senior partner of our family’s legal conglomerate.
"Good morning, sister," Arthur’s deep, steady voice came through the receiver. "I trust you slept well?"
"Better than I have in a decade, Arthur," I replied, taking a sip of tea.
"Good. Because you have a visitor downstairs at the security gate. Steven has been standing outside the main entrance of your estate for the last forty minutes, pounding on the iron bars like a madman, begging the guards to let him in."
I paused, looking out the window toward the long, tree-lined driveway that wound its way up to the gates. "Has he?"
"Indeed. He looks a fright. Rumpled suit from last night, no car, no credit cards, and apparently, the hotel where they spent the rest of the night threw them out because their emergency debit cards bounced. He claims he wants to talk to his mother."
"Tell the guards to give him a bus pass and twenty dollars for breakfast," I said calmly. "Then tell him that if he attempts to trespass on private property again, we will file a restraining order."
May you like
Arthur chuckled softly on the other end. "Consider it done. Are you heading into the downtown headquarters today? The board is convening at ten to finalize the two-hundred-million-dollar divestment portfolio."
"Yes," I said, standing up and smoothing down the lapel of my blazer. "I'll be there in an hour. It's time to officially turn the page."
