Chapter 7 - A Mother’s Empire
Six months later.
The morning sun broke through the clouds over Lake Michigan, casting brilliant golden light across the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Lakefront home.
The dark marble counters and sterile, oppressive atmosphere that Sebastian had insisted upon were gone. In their place were warm oak finishes, bright family paintings, and soft carpets where nine-month-old Cameron was actively crawling, chasing a brightly colored wooden ball across the floor.
His cheerful laughter echoed through the spacious living room—a sound that filled every corner of the house with real, vibrant life.
I sat at the wide wooden dining table, dressed in a comfortable cashmere sweater, reviewing the quarterly report for Vance & Bellandi Forensic Consulting—a new specialized auditing firm I had launched four months ago in partnership with Victoria Vance. Our firm specialized in helping women protect their financial assets during high-conflict divorces and uncovering hidden corporate fraud.
My door opened, and Victoria stepped into the house holding a manila legal envelope.
“Good morning, Chairwoman,” Victoria teased softly, dropping down onto the carpet to roll Cameron’s ball back to him. Cameron giggled loudly, slapping his tiny hands against the rug.
“What’s in the envelope?” I asked, pouring her a cup of coffee.
“Final divorce decree,” Victoria said, handing the papers to me across the table. “Signed by the judge yesterday afternoon. You have sole legal and physical custody of Cameron. The Lakefront house, the vehicle, and your voting shares in Bellandi Development are permanently secured in an unalterable trust for Cameron’s higher education and future inheritance.”
I ran my fingers over the official gold state seal on the document. Eight months ago, I had walked out of this very house with a nursing baby in my arms and a diaper bag over my shoulder, facing an uncertain future. Today, I owned the house, ran the company board, and built a successful new firm that gave voice to women who thought they had none.
“And Sebastian?” I asked quietly.
Victoria took a sip of her coffee. “He accepted a plea agreement this morning. Three years in state prison for corporate fraud, followed by five years of supervised probation and full financial restitution to the escrow funds. His legal license has been permanently revoked.”
She looked at me carefully. “His lawyer asked if you would allow him to write letters to Cameron while he’s serving his sentence.”
May you like
I looked across the room at my son, who was currently pulling himself up to stand against the couch, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity, intelligence, and joy.
“He can write the letters,” I said softly. “They will be reviewed by my legal team and stored in a safe deposit box. When Cameron is eighteen years old, he can decide for himself if he wants to read them.”
