Chapter 2 - The Funeral of Eleanor Vance
The rain over the city was relentless on Friday morning, turning the manicured lawns of Oakridge Cemetery into a sea of black umbrellas and wet stone.
Two hundred of the state’s most powerful figures had gathered to pay their respects to Eleanor Vance. Politicians, hedge fund managers, and tech moguls stood in solemn rows, whispering beneath their breath as the gleaming mahogany casket was lowered into the family vault.
Ethan stood at the front, looking every bit the grieving son for the news cameras positioned near the gates. He wore a bespoke black coat, his expression a carefully practiced mask of stoic sorrow. Beside him stood Chloe, wearing a black silk dress that accentuated her rounding stomach, holding Ethan’s arm with an possessive grip.
The audacity of her presence at Eleanor’s funeral made the crowd whisper, but Ethan didn't care. He was already acting as if he owned the world.
I stood twenty feet away, accompanied only by my sister, Sarah, and Eleanor’s long-time personal assistant, Arthur. I wore simple black, ignoring the cold rain soaking through my coat.
As the service concluded, Ethan walked over to me, flanked by Chloe.
“I didn't expect you to have the nerve to show up,” Chloe sneered softly, adjusting her black veil. “Given everything.”
“Chloe,” Ethan warned lightly, though his eyes burned into mine. “Maya, today is about my mother. I hope you aren't planning to make a scene.”
“Your mother was more of a parent to me than you ever were a husband,” I said smoothly. “I came to say goodbye to her. Not to play your games.”
“Well, her death changes nothing regarding our settlement,” Ethan said, lowering his voice so the nearby guests wouldn't hear. “In fact, it speeds things up. Vance Global’s board meets on Monday to officially confirm me as the sole controlling shareholder of her estate. The probate lawyer, Mr. Harrison, will be reading her final will at the family estate in one hour. You’re legally required to be there as my current spouse, but don't get any grand ideas. My mother’s entire portfolio was tied to the corporate trust.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
“Good. Bring the signed divorce papers,” Ethan added, pulling a pen from his coat pocket and slipping it into my hand. “Let’s bury our marriage along with my mother.”
He turned and walked toward his limousine, leading Chloe by the waist.
Arthur, Eleanor’s frail, white-haired assistant, stepped up beside me, holding a black leather briefcase close to his chest.
“He has no idea, does he, Mrs. Vance?” Arthur whispered, his voice trembling slightly with age and emotion.
May you like
I looked down at the pen in my hand, then at the receding limousine. “No idea about what, Arthur?”
Arthur adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and looked at me with a fierce, quiet loyalty. “Your mother-in-law was many things, Maya. But foolish was never one of them. She knew exactly what her son was doing.”
