Chapter 2 - The Ruin of the Vances
While Della was resting under the heaviest security the city had ever seen, a different kind of storm was brewing in the high-society districts of Charlotte.
In the penthouse apartment of Harlan Vance, the atmosphere was thick with desperation. Crystal glasses lay shattered on the floor—thrown by Cordelia in a fit of rage after they were escorted out of the Ashworth Grand like common criminals.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Harlan roared, his face red, his tie completely ripped off. "That wasn't just some rich guy in a suit, Cordelia! That was Royce Calloway! His family controls the entire shipping docks, the private banking sectors, and every union in this state! The investment contract he threw in my face was the only thing keeping Vance Global from bankruptcy!"
Cordelia paced the room, her red silk dress wrinkled, her perfect makeup ruined by tears of frustration. "He’s just a thug in a tailored suit! My father has political connections, Harlan! We can sue him! We can destroy that pregnant bitch for slander!"
"You stupid, arrogant woman!" Harlan screamed, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Your father’s biggest campaign donor is a Calloway shell company! By noon tomorrow, our bank accounts will be frozen. The board is already calling an emergency meeting to strip me of my CEO title. We are ruined, Cordelia. All because you couldn't control your pathetic temper with a waitress."
Before Cordelia could fire back a retort, the power in the penthouse suddenly cut out. The glittering lights of the city outside vanished, leaving the apartment plunged into darkness.
The heavy oak front door of the penthouse shivered. With a deafening bang, the security locks were sheared completely off. Four men in black tactical gear, masks covering their faces, stepped into the room. They didn't carry standard police weapons; they carried silenced submachine guns.
Behind them walked Marcus Vance—no relation to Harlan, but Royce Calloway’s chief enforcer, a man known in the underworld as 'The Ghost.'
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"Harlan Vance," Marcus said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "Mr. Calloway has issued a decree. You have twenty-four hours to liquidate your assets, sign over your remaining shares to the Calloway Foundation, and leave this state permanently. If you or your fiancée are still within city limits by tomorrow midnight... the next accident won't be staged."
Cordelia shrieked, collapsing to her knees. For the first time in her life, her money couldn't buy her a way out of the dark.
