Chapter 3 - The Notice on the Marble
The dawn that broke over the Vance ancestral mansion was gray, cold, and stripped of dignity.
Victoria Vance had not slept a wink. She had paced the Persian rugs of the second-floor salon until her slippers wore thin, muttering curses under her breath.
“Audrey?” Victoria scoffed to herself for the hundredth time, pouring three fingers of scotch into a crystal tumbler despite the early hour. “Absurd. Arthur Montgomery was a middle-class nobody who died in a state hospital. That girl doesn't have sixty dollars to her name, let alone sixty million. Dominic has let that incompetent accountant frighten him.”
Downstairs, Dominic sat at the antique mahogany dining table, his head buried in his hands. His eyes were bloodshot, his tailored suit from the previous night rumpled and reeking of stale champagne and cold sweat.
He had tried calling Audrey seventy-four times.
Every single attempt went straight to a dead dial tone. She hadn’t just blocked his number; she had severed the entire cellular line. He called Dr. Reed’s office; the receptionist coldly informed him that any further contact would be treated as harassment and reported to the police. He sent two junior associates to Dr. Reed’s clinic; security threw them out onto the pavement.
“Stop sulking, Dominic!” Victoria snapped, sweeping into the dining room. “You look pathetic. Today is Tuesday. You have the quarterly status presentation for the city transit contract. Straighten your tie, go down to your office, and put those insolent lawyers in their place. Remind them whose name is on the front of that skyscraper!”
Before Dominic could respond, the heavy wrought-iron gates at the end of the long driveway groaned open.
Dominic looked up, hope flashing through his chest. “She’s back. I knew it. She has nowhere else to go.”
He rushed to the grand front doors, pulling them open with a desperate, triumphant smile. “Audrey, listen to me—!”
The smile died instantly.
Standing on the sweeping stone porch was not Audrey. It was two uniformed county sheriff’s deputies, flanked by three men in sharp charcoal suits, and a woman carrying an ebony leather binder.
Sophia Sterling, managing partner of Sterling & Associates, stepped forward. Her sharp eyes took in Dominic’s disheveled state with pure, clinical detachment.
“Dominic Vance?” Sophia inquired, though it was clearly not a question.
“Who the hell are you?” Victoria demanded, marching down the stairs in her silk robe, her chin held high. “How dare you trespass on private property! Leave immediately before I have my son call the police commissioner!”
Deputy Miller, a burly officer with twenty years on the force, stepped forward, his hand resting casually on his utility belt. “Ma’am, lower your voice. We are here to enforce an official writ of the county superior court.”
Sophia opened her binder and withdrew a thick stack of legal documents stamped with a raised red county seal.
“Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance,” Sophia said smoothly, her voice echoing in the cold morning air. “I am here representing Sovereign Crest Holdings and Mrs. Audrey Montgomery. As of midnight, the lease-option agreement granting the Vance family tenancy of this property has been terminated due to extreme default and contractual violation.”
Victoria’s face turned an ugly shade of magenta. “Tenancy?! This mansion has been in the Vance family for four generations! My great-grandfather built this estate!”
“And your late husband mortgaged it to the hilt before he passed,” Sophia countered mercilessly. “When the bank initiated foreclosure proceedings two years ago, Sovereign Crest Holdings purchased the debt in full, satisfied the tax liens, and assumed sole ownership of the deed. Under corporate goodwill, my client allowed you to remain on the premises as non-paying tenants under a revocable license.”
Sophia pulled out a bright yellow legal placard.
“That license has been formally revoked. You have two hours to gather your personal clothing and medication. At nine o’clock sharp, the locks will be changed, and any individual remaining on the grounds will be arrested for criminal trespass.”
“Two hours?!” Victoria shrieked, her voice cracking like dry wood. “You cannot do this! Everything in this house is mine! The artwork! The silver! The heirlooms!”
“The furnishings, fine art, and fixtures were itemized as collateral during the corporate acquisition,” Sophia stated coldly. “They belong to Sovereign Crest. My team has an inventory team arriving in twenty minutes. If you attempt to remove so much as a silver spoon, Deputy Miller will place you in handcuffs on charges of grand larceny.”
Dominic stood frozen, staring at Sophia as if she were a ghost. “Sophia… please. Let me talk to Audrey. Where is she? Tell me where she is! I need to see my wife!”
“You don't have a wife, Mr. Vance,” Sophia said, pulling another set of papers from the binder. “You have an adversary in litigation. Here is the formal divorce petition, the temporary restraining order prohibiting you from coming within five hundred feet of Audrey Montgomery, and a summons for the emergency shareholder meeting scheduled for eight o’clock this morning.”
Sophia glanced at her diamond wristwatch. “Which gives you precisely thirty-eight minutes to get downtown. If you miss the quorum, your voting privileges will be forfeited by default.”
Dominic looked down at the divorce petition. Across the top, in bold black ink, were the grounds: *Cruel and Inhumane Treatment, Gross Financial Misconduct, and Spousal Abandonment.*
Below that was Audrey’s signature. It was firm, sharp, and resolute. Not a single trace of hesitation.
“Where is my car?” Dominic choked out, panic finally tearing through his numbness. “Where are the keys to the Bentley?”
A tow truck rumbled up the long driveway behind the sheriff’s cruiser, its flatbed gleaming under the overcast sky.
“The vehicles are registered under corporate fleet assets,” Sophia said, not even blinking. “They are being impounded for liquidation. I suggest you call a cab, Mr. Vance. If your credit cards work, that is.”
Victoria lunged toward Sophia, her manicured nails curved like claws. “You viper! You conniving little bitch! Tell that orphan girl I will destroy her! I will tear her limb from limb!”
Deputy Miller stepped smoothly between them, his large frame blocking Victoria completely. “Ma’am, step back right now, or you’re spending the morning in county holding. This is your only warning.”
Victoria stopped, gasping for air, trembling from the sheer indignity of having a common police officer speak to her like a criminal.
Dominic turned back toward the foyer of the mansion he had strutted through his entire life. The crystal chandeliers, the imported Italian marble, the portraits of his ancestors staring down at him from the mezzanine—none of it was his.
It never had been.
He had mocked Audrey for having nothing, while Audrey had quietly owned the very floor he walked on.
“Dominic!” Victoria wept, clutching his arm, her arrogance finally fracturing into raw panic. “Do something! Call the mayor! Call our friends! We can’t be thrown onto the street like dogs!”
Dominic looked at his mother, the realization of what she had done settling into his chest like lead.
“The mayor won’t answer, Mother,” Dominic whispered, his voice hollow. “None of them will. Because without Audrey’s money… we are nobody.”
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Leaving Victoria sobbing hysterically on the steps of the mansion she had stolen and lost, Dominic turned his collar up against the biting wind and began the long walk down the winding driveway toward the main road.
***
