Chapter 4 - The Rehearsal Night Silence
While I was transforming inside the Gold Coast salon, my parents and sister were hosting the ultimate pre-wedding rehearsal dinner at the elite Drake Hotel ballroom.
My phone, which I had muted, was blowing up with frantic, furious text messages from my mother and Chloe:
Mom: "Where the hell are you, Harper?! The rehearsal dinner started an hour ago! The Sterlings are asking why you aren't here!" Chloe: "You are being so pathetic! Just put the hat on and get over here! Dad is furious!" Mom: "If you embarrass us in front of Julian’s family tonight, I swear to God I will disown you!"
I sat in the passenger seat of Vance’s SUV, scrolling through the messages with cold amusement.
"They're panicking," I said, showing the screen to Vance.
"Good," Vance replied, looking over a stack of federal seizure orders. "Let them sweat. Their confidence is their biggest weakness. They think you're cowering in some hotel room crying into a pillow."
"What’s the exact timeline for tomorrow?" I asked.
Vance pulled up a map of the Grand Plaza Cathedral on his tablet.
"The wedding ceremony is scheduled for 12:00 PM," Vance explained. "Five hundred guests—senators, real estate moguls, high-society elite—will be seated by 11:45 AM. At 11:55 AM, Chloe walks down the aisle. At 12:15 PM, the priest begins the marital vows."
He pointed to the main aisle on the digital blueprint.
"At 12:20 PM, right before Julian Sterling says 'I do,' my federal strike team, backed by twenty uniformed officers and Chicago Police detectives, will seal every exit of the cathedral. Agent Lin and I will walk down the center aisle and execute the arrest warrants for Julian Sterling, Richard Vance, and their chief financial officer."
"What about my mother?" I asked.
"Patricia Vance isn't named on the criminal indictment," Vance said, looking at me carefully. "But once the federal asset freezing orders hit, every credit card, bank account, and property deed under her name will be locked instantly. By 1:00 PM tomorrow, your parents will not have a single dollar to their name."
I took a deep breath, looking out at the rain-slicked Chicago streets.
"I want to sit in the front row," I said softly.
Vance nodded. "You earned that seat, Harper."
At 2:00 AM, I checked into a luxury suite at the Ritz-Carlton under the name Harper Evelyn Vance—using my mother's maiden name that I had legally reclaimed three months ago.
May you like
I lay down on the crisp white linen sheets, looking out at the city skyline. For the first time in my life, I didn't take a sleeping pill. I didn't feel a headache.
I slept like a baby.
