Chapter 4
Z
The fallen dominoes of the Vance family collapsed with terrifying velocity. Within seventy-two hours of the arrests at the Hampton Gala, the tabloids and major news networks were having a field day. Headlines screamed across the front pages of the New York Post and The Hartford Courant: "SUBURBAN HORROR: CONNECTICUT TYCOON AND DAUGHTER’S FIANCÉ ARRESTED IN MULTI-MILLION FRAUD AND DOMESTIC ABUSE SCANDAL."
The photo of my bruised, bloodied face—taken the night I was admitted to the ICU—had been anonymously leaked to the press alongside the mugshots of Robert and Travis. The public outrage was immediate, overwhelming, and unyielding. The picture-perfect image of the wealthy Connecticut family was shattered into a million sharp, bloody pieces.
I sat in the penthouse suite of the Ritz-Carlton in downtown Manhattan, sipping black coffee, watching the news broadcast on the wall-mounted flat screen. Victoria Sterling sat across from me, her laptop open, typing furiously.
"Robert's bail was set at five million dollars," Victoria said without looking up from her screen. "He can't pay it. The federal government froze all of Vance Development's liquid assets this morning. Every bank he owes money to is filing immediate foreclosure notices on his properties—including the family house in Connecticut."
"And Travis?" I asked, my voice calm, unfazed.
"Travis is cracking," Victoria smirked. "He’s currently sitting in a holding cell at the Metropolitan Correction Center. His high-priced defense attorney realized within ten minutes of reviewing the evidence that Travis has zero leverage. He’s already trying to cut a plea deal with the D.A. to testify against your father in exchange for a lighter sentence."
"He won't get one," I said flatly. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
A quiet knock echoed at the suite's double doors. My private security detail—two former Mossad agents hired by Victoria's firm—checked the peephole before unlocking the heavy timber.
Standing in the hallway, looking utterly destroyed, was Madison.
She no longer looked like the pristine, glowing socialite from the dining room table or the red carpet. Her designer clothes were wrinkled, her hair was greasy and unwashed, tied in a messy knot, and heavy blue bags hung beneath her swollen, tear-stained eyes. She clutched a cheap plastic shopping bag to her chest like a shield.
"Emily..." Madison whimpered, her voice trembling violently. "Please... don't let them turn me away. I need to talk to you."
I signaled to the guards to step down. "Let her in."
Madison stepped nervously into the lavish penthouse, her eyes darting around the marble foyer, taking in the obscene luxury that now surrounded the sister she used to treat like trash. She looked at me—at my custom tailored ivory suit, my sharp composure, and the pale scar on my jaw—and broke down into quiet, pathetic sobs.
"They took everything, Emily," Madison wept, collapsing onto the plush velvet sofa without being asked. "The police seized my BMW. They locked the doors to the house in Greenwich. Mom is staying at a cheap motel near the highway, drinking herself to sleep every night. She’s... she’s losing her mind, Emily!"
I didn't move. I didn't offer her a tissue. I simply stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the skyline of New York. "Why are you here, Madison?"
"I came to apologize!" she sobbed, reaching into her plastic bag and pulling out a small, velvet box. She set it on the coffee table. Inside was the massive diamond engagement ring Travis had given her. "I don't want this anymore. I don't want any of it! I was stupid, Emily. I let Mom and Dad influence me. I let Travis control me! I didn't mean what I said that night... I was just confused!"
I turned around slowly, my eyes cold as ice. "Confused?" I repeated softly. "You held an iron wrench over my head while our father held me down, Madison. You laughed while I choked on my own blood. You told Travis I looked like a Picasso."
Madison flinched as if I had struck her. "I... I was scared of Dad! You know how he was!"
"No," I cut her off, stepping closer until I was standing right over her. The shadow I cast swallowed her completely. "You weren't scared. You were thrilled. You loved every second of watching me suffer because as long as I was the dirt beneath their feet, you got to be their little princess."
Madison looked up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands shaking violently. "What do you want from me, Emily? Please! The bank froze my personal accounts! I don't even have enough money to buy groceries! I have nowhere to go!"
"I want you to feel it," I whispered, leaning in close, my voice a dark, lethal hum. "I want you to feel the hunger, the shame, the terror of having no safety net, no family, and no future. I want you to walk down the street and feel people looking at you, knowing you are the girl who laughed at her sister's broken face."
"You're a monster..." Madison gasped, horror dawning in her eyes. "You're just like Dad!"
"No, Madison," I said, opening the door to the hallway. "Dad was sloppy. Dad got caught. I am the nightmare this family created. Now get out of my sight before I have my security drop you at the nearest homeless shelter."
Madison stared at me for a long, agonizing moment, realizing there was no mercy left in me. She grabbed her diamond ring, turned, and practically ran down the hallway, her ragged sobs echoing off the wallpapered walls.
Victoria walked up behind me, watching the elevator doors close on my sister. "That was cold, Emily."
"It wasn't cold enough," I said, pulling my phone from my pocket as it began to ring.
The caller ID displayed an unknown, restricted number from the Connecticut State Correctional Institution. I pressed answer and brought the phone to my ear.
"Emily..."
The voice was rough, hollow, and raspy. Robert Vance.
"Father," I said calmly.
"You think you've won, don't you, you little bitch?" Robert growled, his breath rattling through the receiver. "You think destroying my company and putting me behind bars makes you free? You don't know anything, Emily. You have no idea who I was working for."
My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Vance Development wasn't just my business," Robert laughed, a chilling, desperate sound. "I was laundering that money for people who make your lawyer friend look like a schoolteacher. And now that you've frozen those accounts... now that you've brought the federal government into their playground... they aren't looking at me, Emily. They're looking at you."
The line went dead with a sharp click.
May you like
I lowered the phone slowly, a cold knot tightening in the pit of my stomach. Victoria looked at me, noticing the sudden shift in my expression. "Emily? What did he say?"
Before I could answer, the lights in the penthouse suite flickered once, twice, and went completely black.
