Chapter 2 - The First Crack in the GlassTwo days after being discharged from the hospital, I returned home with my three newborn sons. My mother had arranged for a private medical van, a team of specialized night nurses, and a security detail that discreetly secured our grand estate in the hills—far away from the modest suburban house Adrian had fraudulently signed over to Celeste.
Adrian, of course, had no idea I was back in our real estate circle. He assumed I was huddled in some cheap motel or hiding out at a friend's place, crying over my lost life.
Instead, I sat in the sunlit library of my family’s estate, drinking organic green tea while watching live financial feeds on a massive wall-mounted monitor.
The phone on the mahogany desk buzzed. It was Adrian.
I let it ring three times before sliding my thumb across the screen to answer. I put it on speaker so Harrison, who was reviewing documents across the room, could hear.
“Evelyn,” Adrian’s voice barked through the speaker, tight with suppressed irritation. “Where are you? I sent a process server to your mother’s old address, and the place was empty. Are you dodging the divorce papers?”
I took a slow sip of my tea. “Good morning, Adrian. You sound stressed. Is everything alright at the office?”
“Don't play games with me,” he snapped. “Sign the papers. Celeste wants to move into the house by the end of the week, and I don't have time to chase you around the city playing games. You have no money, no leverage, and no future. Be reasonable.”
“Oh, I’m being entirely reasonable,” I replied smoothly. “In fact, I’m wondering how you plan to pay for Celeste’s new Birkin bags when your corporate accounts are currently reading zero.”
A sharp silence stretched across the line.
“What did you say?” Adrian’s voice dropped an octave, the arrogance slipping just enough to let panic bleed through.
“Check your business accounts, Adrian,” I said, my tone as cold as ice. “Or better yet, call your chief financial officer. Oh wait, you probably can’t. Didn't Apex Holdings just call in your bridge loans this morning?”
“That’s impossible!” Adrian shouted, the sound of rustling papers echoing through the phone. “Apex extended those notes for another six months! We had an agreement!”
“Agreements change,” I said lightly. “Especially when the majority shareholder of Apex Holdings decides that your business ethics don't align with their portfolio standards. By the way, how is Celeste enjoying the house?”
“Evelyn... what did you do?” Panic was unmistakable now. The golden boy of Midtown Manhattan was starting to realize that the ground beneath his feet was turning to quicksand.
“I didn't do anything, Adrian,” I said softly. “You dug your own grave. I’m just standing here watching you jump in.”
I hung up the phone before he could scream another word.
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Harrison looked up from his tablet, a rare, approving smile touching his lips. “The bridge loan recall hit his operating accounts thirty minutes ago. His commercial creditors are already circling like sharks. By this afternoon, his primary investors will pull out.”
“Good,” I said, standing up and walking over to the nursery window where my three sons were resting. “That’s only step one. Let’s make sure he has nowhere left to run.”
