Chapter 4 - The Unraveling
Within ten minutes, the dining room had cleared of everyone except the family, Sloane, Victor, and my security detail. The heavy silence that settled over the wreckage was deafening. The scent of spilled wine and crushed orchids hung thick in the air.
Victor was still standing beside me, clutching his tablet. "Ava... about the five-carat diamond. Since the credit line was revoked, my insurance requires me to recover the merchandise immediately."
I gestured toward the glass of Dom Pérignon. "Be my guest, Victor. Fish it out."
Victor reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a pair of silver tweezers, and carefully reached into the champagne flute. With a wet click, he lifted the glittering stone out of the bubbles, placed it into a velvet pouch, and practically sprinted toward the exit without offering Julian a second glance.
Sloane watched the diamond vanish, and with it, any illusion of her grand future. She grabbed her designer clutch from the floor and glared at Julian with pure disgust. "Don't you ever call me again. You're completely pathetic."
"Sloane, wait—" Julian reached out to grab her arm, but she slapped his hand away with a vicious crack.
"Don't touch me! You're broke!" she spat, marching toward the heavy double doors. Her high heels clicked an angry, hollow rhythm against the hardwood before the doors swung shut behind her.
Julian collapsed into the nearest chair, staring blankly at the red wine soaking through his shirt. His father, Arthur, slowly stood up. The old man looked ancient, the proud posture he had maintained for decades entirely crushed under the weight of his son's foolishness.
"You fool," Arthur whispered, looking down at his son. "You arrogant, stupid fool. I warned you thirty years ago that a Hale without a Vance is just a beggar in a bespoke suit. You thought you were invincible because you inherited a name. But Ava was the backbone of every contract we signed."
"Dad, help me," Julian pleaded, his voice breaking into a pathetic whine. "Call the attorneys at Sullivan & Cromwell. We have connections. We have political leverage!"
"We have nothing," Arthur said coldly. "The loans we took out to finance the shipping expansion were cross-collateralized against Vance assets. When Ava pulls those guarantees tomorrow morning, our personal bank accounts will be seized by the lenders within forty-eight hours."
Arthur turned to Celeste, his voice devoid of warmth. "Get your coat, Celeste. We need to call our personal estate lawyer before the frozen asset orders hit the court docket."
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Celeste looked at me, her eyes wet with bitter, helpless rage. "You plotted this. You sat at our Sunday dinners for months, smiling at us, knowing you were going to ruin my son."
"No, Celeste," I answered evenly, looking straight into her cold eyes. "I sat at your Sunday dinners hoping my husband would remember the woman who loved him before he had a dime. But every time Julian looked at me, all he saw was a stepping stone. You taught him that women were trophies to be acquired and discarded. You ruined your son long before I ever lifted this glass."
