Chapter 7 - The Unraveling
Five minutes later, the high-definition surveillance video was playing on the sixty-inch screen mounted above Dominic’s desk.
There was no audio, but the visual evidence was catastrophic.
The video showed Nora walking into the VIP lounge alone, carrying her designer portfolio. Vanessa was already inside, drinking champagne. Vanessa approached Nora. The video clearly showed Vanessa leaning in close, whispering something directly into Nora’s ear, laughing with cruel condescension.
Then, Vanessa reached out, deliberately grabbed the shoulder strap of her own gown, and ripped it down to her breast.
A second later, Vanessa picked up a crystal glass, smashed it onto the marble floor, and threw herself backward just as Dominic pushed through the double doors.
Nora hadn't touched her. Nora hadn't raised a finger.
Dominic stood in front of the screen, his chest heaving, his fists clenched until the knuckles turned white as bone. He turned slowly toward Vanessa, who was cowering against the leather sofa.
"You ripped your own dress," Dominic said, each syllable dropping like lead.
"Dominic, she told me she was going to ruin the launch!" Vanessa wept, her tears now genuine, frantic, terrified. "She said she was going to take Eli and leave you broke! I did it for you! I did it so you would see what a viper she was!"
"You made me strike my wife," Dominic whispered, the realization hitting him with the force of an oncoming freight train. "You made me strike the mother of my child in front of five hundred people."
"You did that yourself!" Vanessa shrieked, backing toward the door. "You were looking for an excuse! You hated that she was smarter than you! You hated that every good dress CDG ever sold had her handwriting on the margins!"
"Get out," Dominic said.
"Dominic—"
"Get out of my building before I hand this footage to the New York District Attorney and have you indicted for corporate fraud, extortion, and criminal perjury," Dominic roared, slamming his palms onto the desk with a sound like a gunshot. "Julian! Escort Miss Sterling to the street. She leaves with her coat and her purse. Everything else in her office is proprietary property of Caruso Design Group."
Vanessa scrambled out the door, her heels clicking in frantic retreat.
Dominic sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands.
The silence of the room crushed him. The television in the corner was still muted, but the chyron was changing rapidly.
*BREAKING NEWS: VANCE ENTERPRISES ANNOUNCES RE-LAUNCH OF COUTURE LINE IN PARIS.*
*NORA VANCE APPOINTED CHIEF CREATIVE OFFICER.*
Below the headline was a statement from the Vance family’s Swiss banking syndicate: Nora had secured eighty million dollars in private venture capital within twelve hours of leaving Manhattan. Investors who had spent five years waiting for Nora Vance to escape Dominic’s shadow were practically throwing liquidity at her feet.
Dominic looked at the empty whiskey glass on his desk.
May you like
He had thought he was the king who had given her a kingdom. He realized now, with terrifying clarity, that she had been the foundation keeping his glass palace from tumbling into the sea.
***
