Chapter 2 - The Audit of a Monster
By 1:00 AM, the mansion was finally, truly quiet. The last of the high-society guests had departed, having sensed the sudden, glacial shift in the atmosphere when Vanessa stormed out without her fiancé.
Ethan sat alone at his massive walnut desk in the home study. The desk lamp cast a harsh amber glow over a thick stack of papers—not corporate spreadsheets, but personal financial records, household expenditure logs, and security camera logs.
He didn't just want Vanessa out of his house; he wanted her completely dismantled.
His cell phone buzzed on the desk. It was Marcus Vance, his chief corporate legal counsel and—unrelated to Vanessa, though sharing a common last name—one of the sharpest litigation sharks in the Northeast.
"Ethan," Marcus answered on the first ring, his voice brisk despite the late hour. "I got your text. Is everything alright? Security at the gate said Ms. Vance left the property in a state of absolute hysterics, shouting about lawsuits and public embarrassment."
"Marcus," Ethan said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Cancel the wedding. Permanently."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Cancel it? Ethan, the wedding invitations went out to three hundred VIPs yesterday. The press has half-page spreads ready for Sunday morning. What on earth happened?"
"What happened is that Vanessa Vance spent the last six months systematically abusing my nine-year-old daughter," Ethan snarled, his fist slamming down onto the desk hard enough to rattle the inkwell. "She isolated her to the west wing, stripped her of proper clothing, and tonight, she forced her to eat cold instant noodles out of a dog bowl while a hundred wealthy strangers drank champagne downstairs."
Silence hung heavily over the phone line for three agonizing seconds. When Marcus spoke again, all traces of professional detachment had vanished, replaced by cold, righteous fury.
May you like
"That psychotic bitch," Marcus hissed. "Tell me what you need, Ethan. Do you want a restraining order? A public exposure?"
"No," Ethan replied coldly. "I want a complete forensic audit of every charitable foundation, art gallery, and social club Vanessa manages under my name or financial sponsorship. She wanted to play high-society games using my family as collateral? I'm going to strip her family's shipping accounts down to the bare brick before the sun comes up."
