Chapter 6 - Clean Slate in Manhattan
The reinforced doors of Arthur’s Mercedes-Maybach closed with a solid, vault-like thud, shutting out the storm and the chaotic screams echoing from the Sterling estate foyer. Inside, the cabin was warm, smelling of cedarwood and soft leather. Dr. Bennett, my father’s personal physician, immediately secured a cuff around my arm, monitoring my vitals while Arthur wrapped a thick cashmere throw around my shoulders.
“Her blood pressure is elevated, Mr. Vance, but the fetal heartbeat is strong,” Dr. Bennett reported after two tense minutes. “She needs bed rest, warm fluids, and complete freedom from acute emotional stress.”
“She will have whatever she desires,” Arthur said softly, his hand never leaving mine. He looked down at the torn, damp velvet cover I still held on my lap. “Why didn't you call me, Subeo? When he froze your bank accounts... when his mother started her subtle cruelty... why did you endure it alone?”
I looked out the tinted window as Connecticut faded into the rain-swept highway. “Because I wanted it to be real, Dad. When Mom died, everyone treated me like an heiress or a target. Marcus was the first man who seemed to love me just for making him a cappuccino and laughing at his terrible jokes. I thought if I gave him everything—if I sacrificed my pride and learned to fit his world—he would love me enough to protect our son. I was foolish.”
“You were generous,” Arthur corrected firmly. “There is no foolishness in having a loving heart. The flaw belongs entirely to the man who took your light and tried to bury it in the mud.”
By midnight, we arrived at Arthur’s private penthouse overlooking Central Park. Waiting for us was a team of domestic staff and three senior partners from the city’s most ruthless family law firm. While a chef prepared warm bone broth and fresh sourdough, the attorneys sat across the mahogany table in the private study, laying out a three-inch binder.
“Marcus Sterling’s personal assets are thoroughly commingled with his corporate entity,” the lead attorney, Eleanor Cross, explained, handing me a steaming cup of chamomile tea. “By cutting off your access to marital funds during the third trimester, Marcus committed severe economic abuse under state marital statutes. Furthermore, we’ve already filed an emergency petition for sole physical and legal custody of your unborn child, backed by Arthur’s protective security detail.”
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“What happens to his company?” I asked quietly.
Eleanor offered a cold, professional smile. “Vance Capital called the forty-two million dollar notes forty minutes ago. Marcus’s board of directors held an emergency midnight conference call. When they discovered that Arthur Vance had blacklisted their shipping licenses, the board voted unanimously to strip Marcus of his Chief Executive title to prevent total bankruptcy. As of twenty minutes ago, your husband is completely unemployed, personally liable for fifteen million in unsecured personal debt, and banned from entering his own headquarters.”
