Chapter 7 - The Desperate Matriarch
Two weeks after the gala incident, the morning sun poured through the high windows of my Madison Avenue headquarters. Sterling & Associates was managing over eighty million dollars in private equity trusts, and our expansion into corporate forensics was moving rapidly.
I was reviewing a quarterly audit when my executive assistant, Chloe, buzzed the intercom with a troubled tone. "Ms. Sterling, there is an older woman in the lobby. She doesn't have an appointment, and she’s causing a major scene. Building security is on standby, but she claims to be your former mother-in-law."
I paused, setting down my gold pen. Amber Vance had avoided direct contact ever since her sham of a socialite empire had disintegrated into legal judgments and overdue bills.
"Send her up, Chloe," I instructed calmly. "And have building security wait right outside my office doors."
Moments later, the heavy frosted-glass doors swung open.
If I hadn't spent a decade enduring her cruelty, I would hardly have recognized the woman standing before me. The extravagant designer minks, the platinum diamond rings, and the haughty sneer were completely gone. Amber Vance wore an ill-fitting polyester trench coat, worn-out shoes with scuffed heels, and her hair was a brittle, poorly dyed mess. Her face looked sunken, devoid of the expensive clinical treatments she once took pride in.
Yet, despite her visible squalor, a glint of lingering entitlement flickered in her bitter eyes.
"So this is where our money went," Amber hissed, scanning my mahogany desk, the original oil paintings, and the panoramic views of the city. "You built this shrine of arrogance on the backs of my family."
"Sit down, Amber," I said, pointing toward a leather chair opposite my desk. "Or stand. It makes no difference to me. You have exactly three minutes before security removes you for trespassing."
Amber slammed her cracked faux-leather handbag onto the edge of my polished desk. "How dare you speak to me like that! I took you into my household when you were a nobody! I introduced you to our high-society circle, and this is how you repay us? Indigo is dying in a prison hospital, Jade! Do you hear me? The doctors say his heart is failing under the stress of these bogus charges!"
"Indigo's heart condition is the result of twenty years of stress from running fraudulent shell schemes," I countered without emotion. "And those 'bogus charges' are backed by twenty-four binders of certified banking records detailing wire fraud, money laundering, and tax evasion."
Amber’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. She leaned over my desk, her trembling hands clawing at the wood. "You think you're clever, don't you? You think hiding behind your high-priced lawyer makes you invincible? Let me tell you something, little girl. Indigo built relationships with people who operate in circles you can't even comprehend. We have friends who don't rely on court filings to settle scores."
I didn't blink. I simply pressed a button on my desk phone. "Security, please escort Mrs. Vance out of the premises. If she sets foot on this block again, file an immediate restraining order and contact the district attorney's office regarding witness intimidation."
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Amber’s face twisted in panic as two broad-shouldered security officers walked into the room. "Don't you dare touch me!" she shrieked, batting her arms wildly as they took hold of her coat. "Jade! Look at me! You owe us! If Indigo dies in that cage, his blood is on your hands!"
"No, Amber," I replied, my voice chillingly clear as the doors closed behind her thrashing figure. "His blood is on the hands that signed those fraudulent checks. Have a pleasant commute on the subway."
