Chapter 5 - The Retribution Begins
My father raised both hands, gently looping the silver chain around my neck. The heavy, cold sapphire rested against the damp navy fabric of my chest, right where it belonged. For the first time in eight years, Richard Ashford looked at me not as a disappointed titan whose daughter had run away, but as a father who had nearly lost everything that mattered.
"You should have called me, Ellie," he murmured softly, using the childhood nickname no one else knew.
"I wanted to build something on my own, Dad," I replied, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through my veins. "I had to learn what people were made of."
"Well," Richard sighed, turning his head slightly toward Daniel, "now you know."
Daniel took a desperate step toward me, his hands clasped as if in prayer. "Nora! Please, sweetheart! Look at me! We can talk about this! Think about our vows! Think about our home! I did everything for us! The pressure... Crestline was failing, I wasn't thinking straight! Vanessa meant nothing to me, she was just a business associate!"
Vanessa let out a shriek of disbelief. "You miserable coward! You told me last night you were serving her divorce papers the second Harbor Point closed!"
A heavy hand clamped onto Daniel’s shoulder. It was Arthur Vance, the principal managing partner and majority owner of Crestline Development. Vance looked as though he wanted to strangle Daniel right on the spot.
"Shut your mouth, Daniel," Vance growled, his face crimson. He turned to face my father, bowing his head in deep contrition. "Mr. Ashford... on behalf of Crestline, I am beyond appalled. We had no knowledge of this disgraceful behavior. None. Mr. Hayes does not represent our values."
"Mr. Vance," my father said smoothly, not even glancing at Daniel. "As you know, my syndicate holds thirty-eight percent of Crestline's commercial mezzanine debt, due for refinancing next Tuesday. Furthermore, Ashford Urban Partners controls the primary parcel allocations for the Harbor Point maritime zone."
Daniel’s eyes dilated with pure panic. "Arthur, please—"
"Consider Mr. Hayes terminated immediately," Vance declared without hesitation. "He is stripped of his title, his equity shares are frozen pending a corporate forensic audit for embezzlement, and he will be escorted off Crestline property by sunrise tomorrow."
"You can't do that!" Daniel cried out, his voice cracking into a desperate whine. "I built the entire financial model for Harbor Point!"
"You didn't build anything," I interrupted, looking my husband dead in the eye. "You used my old architectural portfolio templates from graduate school to draft the site blueprints. You stole my conceptual zoning designs from five years ago and slapped your company logo on them. Did you really think I wouldn't recognize my own structural cantilever calculations?"
The surrounding executives shook their heads in utter disgust. The humiliation was absolute. Daniel looked around the circle, searching for a friendly face, a client, a colleague—anyone who would offer a hand. Every single person turned their back to him.
"Escort Mr. Hayes and his companion off the premises," Richard ordered the event security coldly. "And ensure the press gets every high-resolution photograph they need outside the main lobby."
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Two guards grabbed Daniel by the upper arms, hauling him backward as his patent-leather shoes skidded helplessly across the polished floor. Vanessa scurried behind them, sobbing hysterically as she tried to cover her face from the flashing cameras of the local society press.
My father turned to me, offering his arm. "Come, Eleanor. It’s time to go home."
