Chapter 6 - The Encounter with Eleanor
The following afternoon, a black sedan pulled up to the grand entrance of the Hartwell Penthouse on Park Avenue. Eleanor Hartwell sat in her grand drawing room, sipping Earl Grey tea from porcelain china, surrounded by high-society floral arrangements sent as condolences for Olivia’s death.
The doors to the drawing room flew open, slamming against the polished wood walls.
Eleanor set her teacup down with elegant precision, frowning as William strode into the room, followed by two private security officers carrying sealed legal binders.
"William," Eleanor said, smoothing her silk blouse. "You should be resting at home. You look dreadful. Grief is making you unrefined."
"Grief didn't make me unrefined, Eleanor," William said, walking up to the marble coffee table and tossing a thick dossier onto the glass surface. "You did."
Eleanor glanced down at the top document—a high-resolution photograph of Maya selling flowers outside Trinity Church Cemetery, accompanied by Beatrice Vance's signed confession.
Eleanor’s face did not pale; her cold eyes merely narrowed. "I see you found the girl."
"The girl?" William slammed his palm onto the table, shattering a crystal vase nearby. Water and white orchids spilled across the floor. "She is my daughter! She is your granddaughter! You left her to starve in Queens!"
"She is the child of a common artist!" Eleanor snapped back, her regal facade instantly dropping to reveal the bitter megalomaniac beneath. "Clara Vance was a nobody! She would have ruined you before you even built your empire! I protected this family, William! I made sure you stayed focused on what mattered—the Hartwell name!"
"The Hartwell name is dead to me," William whispered, stepping so close Eleanor had to lean back against her plush cushions. "As of eight o'clock this morning, the board has convened an emergency session. I have presented the evidence of your financial embezzlement used to pay off Beatrice Vance and suppress medical records. You are being removed as Chairwoman Emeritus."
May you like
Eleanor gasped, her chest heaving. "You wouldn't dare... I am your mother!"
"You were," William said coldly. "Now, you are just a defendant in a federal kidnapping and child abuse conspiracy trial. Get out of my sight before I have the marshals drag you out in handcuffs."
