Chapter 5 - The Glass Penthouse Shatters
By three in the morning, the rain had begun to fall over the city, slicking the asphalt and blurring the neon lights into smeared streaks of amber and blue. A black town car dropped Daniel off outside the Grandview Residences—the gleaming glass tower where he had spent the last six months living in an opulent duplex penthouse while claiming he needed "space to clear his head for business."
He stepped out into the drizzle, his tuxedo damp and ruined, his phone buzzing continuously against his hip. It was Vanessa. She had called him forty-seven times since he walked out of the Sterling Tower.
He ignored the phone, shoved open the bronze revolving doors of the lobby, and marched toward the private elevator. The night concierge, a young man named Leo who usually bowed his head and greeted Daniel with obsequious deference, stepped out from behind the marble desk.
"Mr. Mercer," Leo said, his voice flat and entirely devoid of warmth.
"Not now, Leo," Daniel snapped, pressing the elevator call button. "Send up a pot of coffee and have the night valet bring my Aston Martin around front. I have an early meeting."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mercer," Leo said, walking over and placing a master security keycard over the elevator sensor, blocking the doors from opening. "Your access to the penthouse suite has been revoked."
Daniel turned slowly, his eyes wild with fury. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? I own this building!"
"Mercer Development owns this building, sir," Leo corrected calmly, holding up an official memorandum printed on heavy legal stock. "And at twelve-forty-five a.m., we received written instructions from the executive committee, signed by Mrs. Claire Mercer, ordering the immediate repossession of the residential units under corporate ownership. The locks on penthouse A have already been changed."
"My clothes are up there! My passport! My watches!"
"Your personal belongings have been packed into four standard storage cartons," Leo said, pointing toward a stack of cardboard boxes resting neatly beside the service exit. "You are permitted to take them with you. But you cannot go upstairs. And as for the Aston Martin, the vehicle is registered to Mercer Fleet Management. The keys have been returned to the corporate garage."
At that exact moment, the revolving doors spun again.
Vanessa walked into the lobby, soaked from the rain, her champagne silk gown clinging pathetically to her frame. The glamour of the Harrison ballroom had completely dissolved. Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, her high heels were ruined by the wet pavement, and the diamond earrings she had worn with such pride looked cheap under the bright fluorescent security lighting.
"Daniel!" she cried, rushing toward him and grabbing his wet lapels. "What is happening? The bank just called my emergency contact line! They’re freezing VRC’s operating accounts! They’re demanding immediate collateral on the eight-million-dollar syndicate loan! They said our master lease was rejected!"
Daniel stared down at her, the rain dripping from his dark hair onto his pale forehead. "It's gone, Vanessa."
"What do you mean it's gone?" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the high marble ceiling. "Fix it! Call the mayor! Call your private bankers! You told me she was a figurehead! You told me she didn't have any power!"
"She owns everything!" Daniel suddenly screamed, his composure finally snapping into raw hysteria. "She owns the building! She owns the company! She owns the damn clothes on my back! There is no Harrison Club contract! There is no money! We have nothing!"
Vanessa recoiled as if he had struck her across the face. She looked at him, then at the four cardboard boxes sitting beside the service door, and finally down at his empty hands. The illusion of the dashing, all-powerful real estate titan was gone. Standing in front of her was a broke, middle-aged fraud facing criminal fraud charges.
"You lied to me," she whispered, her voice trembling with venom. "You used me to push your little power play against your wife."
"I used you?" Daniel laughed bitterly, a broken, hollow sound. "You threw yourself at me the minute you found out I managed the Mercer portfolio! You wanted my money!"
"It wasn't even your money!" she screamed, slapping his chest with her damp clutch purse. "You pathetic coward! It was hers the entire time!"
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Leo stepped forward, two burly security guards flanking him from behind. "Mr. Mercer. Ms. Cole. You have five minutes to take your boxes and vacate the premises, or we will be forced to contact the local precinct for criminal trespassing."
Vanessa didn't look at Daniel again. She spun around on her soaked heels and hurried out into the downpour, desperately trying to flag a taxi that wouldn't stop for her.
