Chapter 5 - The Morning Meeting
The lobby of Holloway & Vance Attorneys on the forty-fifth floor of the Vance Tower in downtown Chicago was a monument to corporate power. Gleaming marble floors, towering glass walls offering a panoramic view of the misty morning skyline, and receptionists dressed in designer suits who looked like they could crush a man’s soul with a single polite smile.
I wore my best interview outfit—a navy blue blazer I had bought secondhand four years ago, pressed carefully with an iron that spat steam, paired with sensible flats. Maya was sitting quietly beside me in the leather waiting lounge, coloring in a notebook with a new set of crayons I had bought her on the way in.
"Ms. Vance-Harrison?"
A tall, impeccably groomed woman in her fifties with silver-streaked hair walked out of the executive corridor. She extended a hand with a warm, professional smile.
"I'm Katherine Vance—no relation to the patriarch, just a senior partner who has spent the last ten years making sure your grandfather’s final wishes couldn't be tampered with. Please, come into my office."
We walked into a sprawling corner office overlooking Lake Michigan. As soon as Maya was settled with a fresh juice box and her coloring book at a side table, Katherine sat down behind her massive mahogany desk and opened a thick, leather-bound portfolio stamped with gold lettering.
"Let’s cut straight to the chase, Rachel," Katherine said, her eyes sharp, intelligent, and fiercely approving. "Your grandfather was a hard, stubborn, unforgiving man. But toward the end of his life, he realized he had made a terrible mistake. He saw your mother in you—her spirit, her independence, her refusal to bow to high-society vultures like your uncle Richard."
"Uncle Richard has been running the company for a decade," I said, my voice steady despite my racing pulse. "Does he know about this?"
Katherine let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Richard thinks he owns the kingdom. When your grandfather passed, Richard assumed the ten-year escrow was just a formality before the board formally voted to name him permanent chairman and sole heir. He has spent the last ten years leveraging Vance assets, taking out massive commercial loans, and using company capital to fund his son Alan’s boutique real estate firm."
I froze. "Alan's firm? Blackwell & Vance Developments?"
"Yes," Katherine nodded, sliding a printed corporate organizational chart across the desk. "Your brother’s company has been operating almost entirely on lines of credit backed by Vance Holdings collateral. In fact, Richard used Vance assets to secure the multi-million-dollar mortgage for the very Lake Forest estate where your family gathering took place yesterday."
The puzzle pieces snapped together in my mind with terrifying clarity.
Alan wasn't a self-made entrepreneur. He was a puppet dancing on strings pulled by Uncle Richard—and both of them were building an empire on rented land that legally belonged to me.
"What happens legally when the transfer is executed today?" I asked, leaning forward.
"The moment you sign these transfer documents," Katherine said, tapping the gold pen against the paper, "you become the majority shareholder and controlling CEO of Vance Holdings. All subsidiary accounts, all commercial properties, and all corporate debt default directly to your authority. You have the legal right to freeze every asset, audit every ledger, and demand immediate repayment of every unauthorized loan."
She looked at me, her gaze piercing. "Including the loans that keep your brother and his fiancé living in luxury."
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I looked over at Maya, who was happily coloring a bright blue dog in her notebook, entirely unaware that her mother was about to reclaim an empire.
"When can we start?" I asked quietly.
