Chapter 3 - THE DOMINOES FALL
Within ten minutes, the grand christening party turned into a bloody financial crime scene for the Sterling family.
Arthur’s legal team set up a portable printer directly on the cake table, pumping out legal injunctions, freeze orders, and termination notices while the high-society guests scrambled over each other to leave the ballroom, desperate to distance themselves from the radioactive carcass of Sterling Technologies.
Jason stood frozen in the middle of the empty ballroom floor as Arthur handed him a stack of papers.
"As of 2:15 PM," Arthur stated unemotionally, "Apex Global has seized fifty-one percent of Sterling Technologies. You are hereby stripped of your title as Chief Executive Officer. Your corporate accounts have been frozen. Your access to the company servers has been revoked. Furthermore, Mrs. Thornton has filed for an emergency freeze on all joint marital assets pending divorce proceedings."
"You can't freeze my personal account!" Jason screamed, grabbing Arthur’s lapels. "I have payroll tomorrow! I have a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit due on our Hamptons estate at four o'clock!"
Two Thornton security guards seized Jason’s arms, throwing him off Arthur with effortless ease.
"Your personal account was funded entirely through quarterly dividends drawn from Apex Global’s credit line," Arthur said calmly, adjusting his tie. "Which means those funds belonged to the Thornton Trust. You are currently three million dollars in personal debt to my client, Mr. Sterling. I suggest you retain a public defender. You certainly won't be able to afford private counsel by tonight."
"Isabella! Please!" Jason dropped to his knees on the marble floor—the exact same spot where my mother had been bleeding ten minutes prior. Tears of pure terror were now streaming down his bruised cheek. "Look at me! We're married! We have a son together! You can't destroy my life over a stupid misunderstanding! I'll apologize to your mother! I'll kneel in front of her right now! I'll kiss her feet!"
"My mother is already in an ambulance on her way to a private suite at Mount Sinai," I said, holding my infant son, Leo, safely in my arms, wrapped in a warm blanket. "She doesn't need your fake apologies, Jason. And as for my son... he will grow up knowing that his grandfather built an empire with honest sweat, and that his father was a pathetic bug who thought he could step on people who worked for a living."
"Bella, please!" Jason wept, crawling across the floor toward my shoes. "I love you! I've always loved you!"
"You loved the shadow I let you see," I said, stepping back so his hands clawed uselessly at empty air. "You loved having a quiet, obedient wife who would wash your shirts and take your mother's abuse without complaining. You never loved me, Jason. You loved your own reflection. And now I’m breaking the mirror."
I turned my back on him and walked toward the exit.
Behind me, Eleanor was screaming at the hotel manager, trying to demand that the Plaza honor her catering contract, only for two uniformed police officers—called by Arthur regarding the physical assault on my mother—to step into the ballroom with handcuffs drawn.
"Mrs. Eleanor Sterling?" the lead officer asked. "You're under arrest for felony assault and reckless endangerment."
"Get your filthy hands off me!" Eleanor shrieked as the steel cuffs clicked around her manicured wrists. "Do you know who my son is?! He's the CEO of Sterling Tech!"
"Not anymore, ma'am," the officer replied dryly, dragging her toward the doors. "He's just an unemployed guy with a lot of debt."
As I stepped out of the Plaza into the crisp afternoon air, a black Maybach pulled up to the curb. My mother was already inside the second vehicle, being attended to by two world-class neurologists.
I sat in the plush leather backseat of the Maybach, resting my cheek against my son's soft forehead. My hands were completely still. The rage that had consumed me for three years was gone, replaced by a quiet, absolute clarity.
May you like
"Where to, Madam CEO?" Arthur asked from the front passenger seat.
"The penthouse at the St. Regis," I said calmly. "And call the board of Sterling Technologies. I want a complete forensic audit of Jason's personal expense reports by midnight. If he spent so much as a single dollar of Thornton money on another woman or illegal kickbacks... I want him in a federal prison by Friday."
