Chapter 7 - The True Colors of Sierra
Friday morning arrived with brisk, autumn winds sweeping through the city.
True to my word, Arthur Pendelton’s process server tracked Dylan down at the cheap boutique hotel where he had been forced to check in after his personal credit cards were declined. The divorce petition was accompanied by an ironclad custody filing seeking sole legal and physical custody of Haley, alongside a forensic accounting exhibit detailing every single wire transfer made to Sierra Bennett over the past four years.
What Dylan didn't know—and what I discovered through a private investigator Marcus had quietly flipped out of sheer self-preservation—was that Sierra Bennett’s loyalty was strictly financial.
Within twenty-four hours of the federal asset freeze, when Sierra realized that Dylan’s corporate empire had collapsed and that his accounts were completely drained, her tune changed dramatically.
According to the investigator’s recorded audio log from Sierra’s luxury townhouse:
“What do you mean his cards are declined?” Sierra’s shrill voice echoed through the hidden mic. “You said he was a multi-millionaire CEO! You said he controlled Vance Global!”
“I lost control of the company, Sierra! My wife filed federal injunctions!” Dylan pleaded, his voice desperate. “We need to lay low for a few weeks until I can sort this out—”
“Lay low? With what money?” Sierra snapped back, her tone dripping with venom. “My boutique leases are due! Ryan’s private academy tuition hasn't cleared! I didn't stay attached to you for six years to end up broke with a disgraced, unemployed fraudster! Don't come back here until your financial situation is fixed, Dylan. You’re more liability than you’re worth.”
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The front door slammed shut in his face.
When Marcus quietly delivered the audio transcript and a digital recording of the conversation to my father’s study, I didn't feel triumph. I felt an overwhelming sense of profound pity. Dylan had thrown away his marriage, his family, his daughter’s safety, and his entire moral compass for a woman who viewed him purely as an ATM machine. He had sacrificed everything for an illusion, and the moment the gold plating chipped, the illusion vanished.
