Chapter 8 - The Social Collapse
News of the scandal tore through high-society circles like a wildfire over the next forty-eight hours.
The viral video that Vanessa had uploaded to humiliate me was quickly deleted, but internet users had already saved it and re-uploaded it alongside the news footage of Beatrice and Vanessa being handcuffed at the corporate headquarters.
The contrast was brutal, iconic, and unrelenting.
The Gold-Digger Was The Owner All Along, ran a headline in the New York Post.
Caldwell Empire Rescued By Widow Nurse After Family Embezzlement Uncovered, reported Forbes.
Every high-society door in Manhattan slammed shut in Beatrice and Vanessa's faces simultaneously.
Evelyn Sterling, the woman who had called me two nights ago to warn me against fighting for alimony, immediately canceled Beatrice’s membership on the Heritage Board. The country club revoked their privileges. Their luxury credit accounts were frozen by banks eager to distance themselves from the looming criminal trial.
With no access to corporate accounts and their personal assets frozen by court order, Beatrice and Vanessa were forced to rent a tiny, dark, one-bedroom garden apartment in a rundown district of Queens—funded entirely by selling three of Vanessa’s remaining designer handbags at a second-hand pawn shop.
On Friday morning, I sat in the executive corner office on the thirty-second floor of Caldwell Global Headquarters.
The room had been completely renovated. Terrence’s favorite oil paintings were back on the walls, his mahogany desk was restored, and the heavy, dark drapes had been replaced with bright, clear glass that filled the room with sunlight.
Arthur Vale walked into the office carrying a tray of fresh morning coffee and a tablet screen.
"Morning, Chief," Arthur smiled, setting a cup on my desk. "The board of directors just unanimously voted to confirm your permanent appointment as Chairwoman of the Board."
"Thank you, Arthur," I smiled, taking a sip. "How are the restructuring plans coming along?"
"Brilliantly," he reported. "We've re-allocated twenty million dollars from former executive perk budgets into the employee health and pension funds. Shareholder confidence has hit a five-year high, and stock prices are up twelve percent since Tuesday."
"And the criminal proceedings?" I asked quietly.
Arthur adjusted his glasses, his expression turning serious. "The District Attorney has finalized the indictment. Beatrice is facing twelve counts of wire fraud, grand larceny, and corporate embezzlement. Vanessa is facing eight counts of criminal forgery and tax evasion. Given the overwhelming forensic evidence, their defense attorneys are advising them to take a plea deal."
"What kind of sentence are they looking at?"
"Beatrice is looking at seven to ten years in a state correctional facility," Arthur said flatly. "Vanessa is looking at three to five."
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I looked out the window at the bustling city below.
"They did this to themselves, Arthur," I said softly. "Terrence gave them every opportunity to be a real family. They chose greed every single time."
