Chapter 4 - The Fall from Grace
By 7:30 the next morning, the grand estate at 1404 Crestview was surrounded by three unmarked black SUVs. Six muscular men in matching black tactical polo shirts stepped out, led by a stern woman carrying a tablet.
Inside, panic had transformed the mansion into a battleground.
Victoria was rushing through the walk-in closet, shoving designer handbags and fur coats into cheap plastic trash bags. Her hair was unwashed, her makeup smeared, and the regal composure she had maintained for sixty years was entirely gone.
"Dominic! Don't just sit there! Call our lawyers!" Victoria screamed from the closet, throwing a pair of Italian leather boots toward the bed. "Call the bank! Call Senator Harrison! He owes us a favor from the last charity gala!"
Dominic was sitting on the floor in the hallway, staring at a framed photograph of us taken on our wedding day. I was wearing a simple, unbranded white dress I had bought myself. He had complained that day that my dress looked "cheap" compared to his mother’s diamond-encrusted gown.
He hadn't realized the simple pearl necklace around my neck was a family heirloom worth more than his mother's entire wardrobe.
"It's over, Mother," Dominic said listlessly. "I called Senator Harrison. His assistant told me he doesn't take calls from bankrupt defendants."
"We are not bankrupt!" Victoria roared, stumbling out of the closet with three trash bags over her shoulder. "We are the Sterlings!"
"We are broke," Dominic yelled back, standing up and slamming his fist against the wall. "Every single dollar in our corporate accounts came from Aegis! The payroll for two hundred construction workers bounces at noon today! The subcontractors haven't been paid! The banks have already frozen our personal guarantees!"
At that moment, Paige walked down the hallway, carrying a small leather suitcase. She had replaced my silk robe with a tailored dress and was wearing oversized sunglasses despite being indoors.
"Where do you think you're going?" Victoria sneered, blocking her path.
Paige pulled back her shoulders, looking at Victoria with cold indifference. "I'm leaving, Victoria. I’m not standing here to get thrown out by security guards like trash."
"You gold-digging little viper!" Victoria spat, grabbing Paige’s wrist. "You were sleeping with my son while he was married! You drank her champagne! You slept in her bed! You helped us push her out!"
"I slept with a man who told me he was a millionaire owner of a major construction firm," Paige hissed, wrenching her arm free from Victoria’s grip. "I didn't sign up to sleep on the street with a sterile loser and his crazy, child-killing mother! Keep your trash bags, Victoria. You’re going to need them."
Paige marched down the stairs, her heels clicking loudly against the marble.
Dominic didn't even try to stop her. He just watched her go, the final illusion of his power slipping through his fingers.
At precisely 8:00 a.m., the front doors were unceremoniously pushed open. The security team marched in, accompanied by locksmiths carrying heavy metal toolboxes.
"Time's up, Mr. Sterling," the security chief announced, gesturing toward the open doors. "Please step outside the perimeter. The moving trucks for your personal clothing will arrive at a designated storage facility tomorrow."
Victoria tried to fight them, screaming insults and threatening lawsuits, but two female security officers calmly escorted her down the driveway, leaving her trash bags sitting on the damp concrete.
Dominic walked out slowly, his head low. As he reached the bottom of the driveway, he looked back at the house that had been his pride for three years.
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The security guards were already tearing down the iron plaque at the gate that bore the name STERLING ESTATE. Beneath it, revealed for the first time in three years, was the original brass foundation plate:
VANCE MANOR.
