Chapter 2 - The Glass Tower Illusion
Chloe’s brief flicker of panic vanished as quickly as it had arrived, replaced once more by that cold, untouchable corporate smirk. She stepped aside, giving a mocking gesture toward the elevators. “Go on then, Vivienne. Take your little handmade necklace upstairs and knock on the penthouse doors. Let’s see how fast Dominic has security throw you out into the rain.”
I didn't answer her. I kept my expression an unreadable mask, holding Sophia’s small hand tightly in mine. The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and we stepped inside alone. As the heavy doors slid shut, cutting off Chloe’s gloating face, I pressed the button for the top-floor ballroom.
During the ride up, my mind raced through the architecture of my husband’s career. Dominic Vance had been an ambitious mid-level manager when we met seven years ago. He was charming, attentive, and painfully insecure about his lack of connections. When we married, my father and brothers had gently offered to bring him into the Sterling corporate umbrella. I had insisted on independence, wanting a normal marriage. So, my brothers compromised. They funneled venture capital and lucrative municipal contracts into Dominic’s firm through anonymous shell companies and silent institutional investors.
He thought he was a self-made billionaire genius. In reality, he was a tenant living in a mansion built entirely by my family’s goodwill.
When the elevator chimed and the doors opened into the opulent, glass-walled penthouse ballroom, the noise of the gala washed over us. String quartets played softly in the corner, servers balanced flutes of champagne, and hundred-dollar-a-plate dinners were being served to the city's corporate elite.
It took me less than thirty seconds to spot him.
Dominic stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rain-slicked city skyline. He looked immaculate in a custom-tailored charcoal tuxedo, laughing warmly as he clinked glasses with a heavily powdered, impeccably dressed older man. Standing beside Dominic was a striking woman in a designer red silk gown—and clinging tightly to her hand was a boy around eight years old.
The "real family."
As if feeling the weight of my gaze, Dominic’s laughter died. He turned his head, and his eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room.
The color drained from his face instantly. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted dangerously, a few amber drops spilling onto the pristine carpet. He dropped his companion's hand as though it had burned him and started pushing his way frantically through the crowd toward us.
“Vivienne?” Dominic hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind a massive decorative marble pillar, out of sight of the main banquet tables. His face was twisted in sheer, unadulterated panic and fury. “What in God’s name are you doing here? How did you get past security?”
I looked down at his hand gripping my arm, then raised my eyes to meet his. The man I had loved, supported, and believed in for six years looked like a cornered rat.
“Sophia made you something,” I said softly, my voice completely devoid of emotion. I gently pulled my arm from his grip.
Sophia held up the colorful paper necklace, her lower lip trembling slightly. “Happy founders' night, Daddy. I made it just for you.”
Dominic didn't look at the necklace. He didn't reach out to touch our daughter. He stared at me with venomous eyes. “Are you out of your mind? Bringing a child into a corporate executive gala? Do you have any idea how much is riding on tonight? That man you saw me with is Arthur Sterling—no, wait, Arthur Sinclair, the head of the city's largest municipal development board! His daughter is the woman standing over there. We are sealing a twenty-million-dollar infrastructure merger tonight!”
The irony tasted like ash in my mouth. Arthur Sinclair. A man whose entire portfolio was currently underwritten by Sterling Bank trust funds.
“And what about us, Dominic?” I asked quietly. “What about the wife who spent six years listening to you complain about cash flow while funding your company behind the scenes? What about your daughter?”
Dominic scoffed, wiping sweat from his forehead. “You live in a comfortable house, Vivienne! You have a credit card and a quiet life! You don't understand the real world, the sacrifices a man has to make to build an empire! Sinclair’s daughter brings real power, real status. You were a convenient placeholder, but this... this is my actual future.”
He looked around frantically, desperate to sweep us under the rug before Sinclair noticed. “Take the kid and get out of here right now. Call a cab. I’ll wire you some hush money tomorrow morning, just don't ruin this for me.”
Before I could reply, a sharp, heavy thud echoed from the private elevator foyer behind us.
May you like
The private security doors were flung wide open.
A squad of four dark-suited men strode into the ballroom with the terrifying precision of a military unit. And right at the front of them walked Victor Sterling—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing an expensive tailored overcoat, his cold grey eyes sweeping over the glittering ballroom before locking directly onto Dominic Vance.
