Chapter 3 - Stripped Bare
Vanessa let out a small shriek as Marcus loomed over them. Her polished facade cracked entirely. "Caleb, do something! Call your partners at the fund! They can't do this in front of everyone!"
"Silence!" Caleb snarled, shoving her hand off his coat. He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, trying desperately to regain his trademark Wall Street composure. He straightened his designer tie and sneered at me. "Do you think this changes anything, Ellie? I run Vance Global’s day-to-day operations. The board answers to my profitability metrics. Without me, your stock plummets thirty percent by the opening bell on Monday. You don't have the stomach for business. You never did."
"That is where you are catastrophically mistaken, Mr. Sterling," Harlan interjected smoothly. "Richard’s codicil does not merely freeze your access. It triggers an automatic succession plan approved unanimously by the emergency proxy board last night."
Harlan gestured toward the front pews. Three senior board members—men who had built Vance Global alongside my father from the ground up—stood up together. They didn't even glance at Caleb. They looked at me and bowed their heads in quiet solidarity.
"Eleanor Vance is named sole Executive Chairwoman with total veto power," Harlan declared. "Her voting shares represent sixty-two percent of the company. Your shares, which were contingent on your fidelity and fiduciary integrity under section 14-B of the prenuptial agreement, have reverted to the Vance Family Trust."
Vanessa grabbed Caleb’s arm frantically. "The penthouse, Caleb! What about the TriBeCa penthouse? You said the deed was signed in my name last week!"
Harlan offered a rare, thin smile. "The TriBeCa penthouse was purchased using funds siphoned from a Vance Global subsidiary. The property has been encumbered by an emergency lis pendens filing as of eight o'clock this morning. Ms. Cross, the locksmiths are currently changing the deadbolts, and your belongings are being packed into cardboard boxes to be left at the curb."
A chorus of stifled laughter and murmurs broke out among the socialite attendees. The very people Vanessa had been bragging to minutes ago were now pulling out their phones, snapping subtle photos of her mortification.
Vanessa’s face turned bright red. "You crazy old dinosaur! You can't throw me out on the street!"
"You're not on the street yet, Ms. Cross," I said quietly, walking right up to her until we were separated by mere inches. "You're still in the house of God. But the moment you take one step outside those heavy oak doors, you are trespassing on Vance private property. Marcus, escort Ms. Cross and Mr. Sterling to the pavement."
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"Eleanor, listen to me," Caleb said, his voice dropping into that smooth, manipulative tone he had used to control me for four years. He reached out to touch my arm, but Lev stepped between us with a glare that could freeze boiling water. "You're pregnant with my child. You're emotional, you're grieving. We can work this out behind closed doors. Don't destroy our family over pride."
"Family?" I looked down at my slightly rounded stomach, then looked up into his lying eyes. "You lost the right to call this a family the second you brought her into my father's sanctuary. Get your hands off me, get out of this church, and prepare your defense. You're going to need it."
