Chapter 4 - The Weekend in Atlanta
Five hundred miles away, in the VIP lounge of the Ritz-Carlton Reynolds in Georgia, Derek Cross swirled an eighty-dollar glass of scotch, feeling like he had finally stepped into the world he belonged to.
He wore a new linen suit purchased with the money he had wiped out from Natalie’s savings account. Next to him sat Lauren Pike, dressed in an emerald designer sundress, laughing carelessly as she introduced him to regional developers and commercial brokers.
“Everyone, this is Derek,” Lauren announced proudly to a circle of wealthy associates. “He’s handling some of the largest portfolio expansions for Vanguard in the Carolinas. We decided to combine business with a little pleasure this weekend.”
The men nodded respectfully, clinking glasses with Derek.
“Vanguard is a sharp firm,” a senior partner named Bradley remarked. “Heard rumors that the parent company is announcing a massive corporate restructuring on Monday morning. Brand new leadership coming out of Charlotte. They’re consolidating all regional regional portfolios under a single managing director. That seat is a goldmine.”
Derek’s heart raced with ambition. He leaned forward, flashing his most confident smile. “I’ve actually been laying the groundwork for that expansion across the Piedmont triad. My numbers speak for themselves.”
“With Lauren’s father backing your recommendations, Derek, you’re practically a shoe-in,” Bradley laughed, patting him on the shoulder.
Derek excused himself a few moments later to step out onto the terrace. The warm southern breeze carried the scent of pine and lake water. He checked his phone. No missed calls from Natalie. No desperate voice messages. No angry texts pleading with him to return.
He frowned slightly, feeling an unexpected prickle of irritation. Usually, whenever they had a disagreement, Natalie would send a gentle text within hours, asking if he had eaten or offering to talk things through. Her complete silence felt unnerving.
“She’s probably sulking at her bakery counter,” he muttered to himself, taking a long sip of scotch. “Let her realize what life looks like without my income covering the big bills. She’ll come crawling back in two weeks, and by then, my divorce papers will already be served.”
Lauren walked out onto the terrace, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. “What are you thinking about, handsome?”
Derek smiled, turning around to kiss her forehead. “Just thinking about the future. Real success. No more holding back.”
“My dad is meeting us for brunch tomorrow,” Lauren whispered playfully. “He wants to see if you have the stomach to handle the Pike family’s high-yield accounts. If you impress him, Vanguard will have no choice but to hand you the regional vice presidency.”
“I won’t let you down,” Derek promised, kissing her again.
Meanwhile, back in Charlotte, Natalie had spent the afternoon inside the private salon suite of the Prescott estate.
Top stylists, tailors, and personal assistants moved with quiet precision. Her tangled hair was trimmed and styled into rich, chestnut-silk waves. Her skin was restored with revitalizing treatments. Her nails, once chipped from scrubbing commercial floors, were manicured to perfection.
When she stepped in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, she barely recognized herself. She wore a tailored sapphire-blue silk trousers and a double-breasted blazer cut to perfection. Resting against her collarbone was the legendary Prescott Sapphire—a family heirloom recovered from the family vault that afternoon.
Julian stood in the doorway, a walking cane in hand, tears once again welling in his fierce green eyes. “You look just like your mother, Natalie. Radiant. Unstoppable.”
“Dad,” Natalie said, turning toward him with a calm, steady gaze. “You told me Vanguard Commercial belongs to Prescott Capital.”
“Every brick, every lease, and every employment contract,” Julian affirmed.
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“Then on Monday morning,” Natalie said, her voice dropping to a low, melodic firmness, “I want to attend the regional executive board meeting in person. As the new Managing Director.”
Julian’s face split into a broad, proud grin. “Arthur! Prepare the executive appointment documents immediately. My daughter is taking the helm.”
