Chapter 5 - The First Tremor
Four days after the incident at St. Catherine’s Hospital, the sun was shining brightly over the city.
In the corner office on the forty-second floor of Sterling, Vance & Associates, Nathan was sitting behind his massive walnut desk, reviewing a corporate merger contract.
Life was good. He had a newborn son—an heir to carry on the Vance name—and his father-in-law, Richard Vance, had just promised to hand him the legal representation for a new fifty-million-dollar luxury condominium project.
His phone buzzed on his desk.
It was his administrative assistant, Sarah.
“Mr. Vance, Mr. Sterling wants to see you in the executive boardroom immediately.”
Nathan smiled, adjusting his silk tie. Arthur Sterling rarely called associates into the main boardroom unless it was to hand out a major bonus or announce a new equity partner.
“I’ll be right there, Sarah.”
Nathan gathered his leather folder, smoothed his tailored suit, and walked down the glass-walled corridor. He passed several junior partners who nodded at him with envy. He felt invincible. He was a self-made man who had conquered the city’s legal elite.
He pushed open the heavy frosted-glass doors of the executive boardroom.
Arthur Sterling was sitting at the head of the twenty-foot mahogany conference table.
Beside him sat two senior forensic accountants and a woman wearing a simple dark blue suit.
When Nathan saw the woman’s face, his heart dropped into his stomach.
It was me.
I was sitting calmly at the table, a cup of black coffee in front of me, wearing a high-necked navy dress and a simple silver necklace. My hair was tied back neatly, and my face was unreadable.
“Mom?” Nathan stammered, stopping dead in his tracks. “What... what are you doing here? Arthur, what is this?”
Arthur Sterling didn't smile. He pointed to a leather chair across the table.
“Sit down, Nathan,” Arthur said coldly.
Nathan hesitated, his eyes darting frantically between me and his boss. “Is this about what happened at the hospital? Look, Arthur, my wife just gave birth. My mother had a mental breakdown in the private suite and security had to—”
BANG!
Arthur Sterling slammed his palm down onto the mahogany table so hard the water glasses vibrated.
“Shut your mouth, Nathan,” Arthur growled, his eyes burning with an intense, terrifying rage that made Nathan flinch backward. “Do not say another word until you are told to speak.”
Nathan stared at Arthur in total shock. He had worked for Sterling for ten years and had never seen the managing partner lose his temper like this.
“Arthur, I don't understand—”
“You don't understand?” Arthur sneered, throwing a thick yellow document across the table. It landed right in front of Nathan. “Read page one.”
Nathan picked up the document with shaking hands. His eyes scanned the header:
NOTICE OF REVOCATION AND FORMAL AUDIT: THE ELMWOOD TRUST vs. VANCE DEVELOPMENT CORP & NATHAN VANCE.
“What... what is The Elmwood Trust?” Nathan muttered, his forehead knotting in confusion. “I’ve never heard of this.”
“The Elmwood Trust,” I spoke up, my voice calm, icy, and completely devoid of the maternal warmth he had taken for granted his entire life, “is the private estate entity created by your father, Michael Vance, thirty years ago.”
Nathan looked at me, a condescending smirk trying to form on his lips despite his growing anxiety. “Mom, Dad was a city surveyor. He didn't have a trust. He left us a twenty-thousand-dollar mortgage and an old car.”
“Your father,” Arthur Sterling interrupted venomously, “owned the master drainage and access rights to the entire northern valley—including the two hundred acres where your father-in-law built Vance Estates.”
Nathan’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”
“For thirty years, your mother has quietly allowed Richard Vance to lease that land for a fraction of its market value,” Arthur continued, leaning forward. “She did it because she wanted to support your marriage. She did it so Richard Vance would treat you like a son. She allowed forty thousand dollars a year to be deposited into an escrow account for your future.”
Nathan stared at me, his face slowly turning pale. “You... you own the land under Vance Estates?”
“I do,” I said simply. “And as of eight o'clock this morning, Arthur’s firm has filed a formal injunction against Vance Development Corp for non-compliance with the 2016 environmental drainage standards.”
Nathan gasped. “Mom! You can't do that! Richard is in the middle of closing a fifty-million-dollar funding round for the new condo project! An injunction will freeze his credit lines!”
“I know,” I said, taking a slow sip of my coffee.
“Why are you doing this?!” Nathan yelled, standing up, his composure completely shattering. “Is this because Chloe didn't want you holding the baby?! Are you really trying to ruin my family’s business over a ridiculous grudge?!”
Arthur Sterling stood up, his tall frame looming over Nathan like an impending storm.
“Your mother isn't ruining your business, Nathan,” Arthur said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “You did that yourself the moment you allowed your wife’s family to treat Martha like garbage.”
Arthur pulled a second file from his briefcase.
“Effective immediately, Nathan, you are suspended without pay from Sterling, Vance & Associates pending an internal compliance review regarding your handling of the Vance Development account.”
Nathan’s eyes widened in absolute horror. “Suspended?! Arthur, I’m a senior partner! I brought in six million dollars in billing last year!”
“You brought in clients that your mother’s trust made possible!” Arthur snapped. “Do you think I hired you ten years ago because of your brilliant bar scores, Nathan? You were in the bottom twenty percent of your class! I hired you because Martha Vance came to my office and begged me to give Michael’s son a chance!”
The silence in the boardroom was deafening.
Nathan stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, staring at Arthur as if the world had just dissolved beneath his feet.
“She begged me,” Arthur repeated softly, shaking his head with deep disgust. “She paid for your bar prep courses out of her savings. She told me you were a good boy. A loyal boy who loved his family.”
May you like
Arthur looked at Nathan’s pristine tailored suit, then down at the yellow legal document on the table.
“I see now that Martha was wrong about you,” Arthur said coldly. “Clear out your desk by five o'clock. If you are still in this building at 5:01, security will escort you to the street.”
