Chapter 5 - The Brooklyn Sanctuary
By late afternoon, the media vultures had descended upon the Altamira Holdings headquarters in Midtown. News vans clogged the streets, reporters thrust microphones toward security cameras, and financial blogs were already running breaking headlines about the sudden federal investigation and the dramatic ousting of CEO Julian Vance.
I didn't stick around for the press conference.
After completing the formal transfer of executive control back to the family trust, I packed up my office, picked Nora up from her private school, and drove us straight across the river to my brownstone in Brooklyn.
It was a gorgeous, historic 19th-century brownstone with ivy climbing up the red brick facade, tall arched windows, and a quiet, sunlit courtyard in the back. It was the one property Julian had never been able to touch because my grandfather had deeded it directly to my mother, who passed it down to me before she died.
Chloe had wanted this house. She had expected to move in and play mistress of the manor while Julian pushed me out into the cold.
Now, Chloe was unemployed, facing federal scrutiny alongside her sugar daddy, and wondering how she was going to pay for her next designer handbag without Altamira corporate funds.
“Mommy, are we living here now?” Nora asked happily, skipping across the hardwood living room floor as she inspected her new bedroom overlooking the quiet Brooklyn street.
“Yes, sweetie,” I smiled, kneeling down to hug her tightly. “This is our home now. Just you and me. Safe, happy, and free.”
“Can we get a dog?” she asked instantly, her eyes wide with hope.
“A dog, a cat, and whatever else you want,” I laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was an unknown number. I ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. A second later, it buzzed again. Then a text message came through.
From Julian: “Evelyn, please answer the phone. The bank froze all my personal cards. They towed my car from the apartment parking lot. Eleanor is screaming at me because her country club account was declined. Please... let’s talk. Name your terms.”
I stared at the screen, read the message, and then blocked his number permanently without replying a single word.
Some losses are tragedies. Others are just taking out the trash.
I set the phone down on the antique oak coffee table, walked over to the kitchen, and started mixing batter for chocolate chip pancakes with my daughter. The evening sun poured through the tall kitchen windows, warming the room with a golden, peaceful light.
Altamira Holdings was secure. My grandfather’s legacy was protected. And Julian Vance was finally out of our lives for good.
May you like
Or so I thought.
I didn't know that Eleanor and Renata were already planning a desperate, humiliating retaliation—one that would involve cornering my five-year-old daughter while my back was turned, and sparking a war that would ultimately bring the entire Vance family crashing down into absolute ruin.
