Chapter 4 - The Unraveling at the Manor VanceWhile Preston fought a losing battle in the financial trenches of Manhattan, the domestic front at the Vance family estate was suffering an equally catastrophic collapse.
According to Mara’s evening intelligence briefings, Beatrice Vance had locked herself in her master suite after learning that the family’s historical country home had been quietly placed under lien by commercial creditors. The grand, sweeping dinners where she used to mock my background and call me “sweet but ordinary” were replaced by deafening silence and furious telephone calls to lawyers who refused to take her calls.
And then there was Khloe Sutton.
The social climber who had spent months scheming behind my back, sending secret messages to Preston during bridal fittings, and engineering her dramatic ivory-dress entrance at the altar, suddenly found herself living out a very different kind of fairy tale.
She had expected to step into a life of effortless luxury as the undisputed queen of the Vance dynasty.
Instead, she woke up in a half-empty mansion where the electricity had been temporarily restricted due to unpaid commercial utility bills, with a disgraced, screaming fiancé who blamed her for ruining his life.
On Wednesday night, the friction finally exploded into the public sphere.
Mara walked into my study holding her tablet with a broad, triumphant grin.
“You’re going to want to see this,” Mara said, spinning the tablet around so I could view a live-streamed video clip circulating wildly on TikTok and Instagram.
It was filmed outside the gates of the Vance estate. The video showed Khloe Sutton, still wearing her designer clothes but with her hair disheveled and mascara running down her cheeks, screaming at Preston as he tried to drag her away from a waiting taxi.
“You lied to me!” Khloe shrieked at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the wrought-iron gates. “You said your family was worth hundreds of millions! You said the company was bulletproof! You’re broke! You’re completely broke!”
“Shut up, you idiot!” Preston roared back, grabbing her arm and trying to shove her into the cab. “This wouldn't have happened if your mother hadn't pushed me to make the switch publicly! You ruined everything!”
“I ruined everything? You traded a billionaire heiress for a sinking ship, you arrogant moron!”
With a vicious shove, Khloe broke free, slammed the taxi door in his face, and sped off into the night, leaving Preston standing alone in the rain outside his ancestral estate, staring blankly at the tail lights.
I handed the tablet back to Mara, feeling a quiet, profound sense of closure wash over me.
“Has the bankruptcy filing been processed for Vance Global?” I asked calmly.
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“It was filed by their own general counsel an hour ago,” Mara replied. “The company is officially entering court-supervised restructuring. The Sterling Group is positioned as the primary senior secured creditor. Which means, legally speaking... you now own the entire enterprise.”
“Good,” I said, turning back to my blueprints. “Prepare the acquisition paperwork. We’re going to dismantle the old brand completely. Not a single trace of the Vance name will remain on those buildings by next month.”
