Chapter 9 - The Eviction from Eden
Two months later, the cold January snow was falling softly over the manicured courtyard of the Fifth Avenue penthouse.
Inside the sprawling twelve-room apartment, moving crates were stacked neatly in the grand gallery.
The divorce had been granted by the New York Supreme Court with ruthless speed. The prenuptial agreement, backed by the Vance-Sterling trust covenants, awarded Richard zero claims to the real estate, zero claims to the intellectual property, and ordered him to repay eight million dollars in embezzled corporate funds.
To satisfy the civil judgment, Richard had been forced to liquidate his private sports car collection, his luxury watch portfolios, and his Hamptons summer cottage.
A soft knock came at the service entrance.
Julian opened the door, allowing Richard to step into the foyer under the watchful eye of two private bailiffs.
Richard looked unrecognizable.
He wore a cheap, off-the-rack overcoat and worn leather shoes. His hair was disheveled, his eyes hollow and bloodshot, and he had lost at least twenty pounds from the relentless stress of federal depositions and civil lawsuits.
He walked into the grand living room, where Serena stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the snow-covered canopy of Central Park.
"Serena," Richard’s voice was hoarse and broken, barely above a whisper.
Serena turned around slowly, holding a cup of hot black coffee. "The bailiffs are here to supervise the removal of your personal journals and family photo albums, Richard. Everything else remains with the property."
Richard looked around the magnificent room—the hand-carved limestone fireplace, the modern art collection, the panoramic views of the city he had once thought he ruled.
"I lost everything, Serena," he choked out, tears carving clean lines through the dry skin of his cheeks. "The SEC barred me from serving as an officer of any public company for ten years. My friends won't return my calls. Even Chloe left me three days after the gala to move back to Ohio."
"Chloe didn't leave you, Richard," Serena replied evenly, without a shred of malice. "The transactional relationship ended when the currency ran out. You shouldn't be surprised when a bought companion departs with the check."
Richard dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor, burying his face in his trembling hands, weeping with the raw, agonizing sorrow of a ruined man.
"I'm sorry, Serena," he sobbed, his voice muffled against his palms. "I was an arrogant, foolish monster. I had the most extraordinary woman in the world, and I threw her away for a handful of dirt."
Serena looked down at the broken man kneeling at her feet.
There was no joy in watching him suffer, but there was no pity either. The debt had simply been settled in full.
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"Stand up, Richard," she said softly. "Pick up your boxes and walk out that door. You have a long life ahead of you to learn how to be an honest man."
Richard slowly rose to his feet, wiped his face with his sleeve, picked up his single cardboard box of personal journals, and walked out of the penthouse into the cold winter air, never to return.
