Chapter 6
Z
Three weeks passed. The news cycle, insatiable as always, continued to feast on the crumbling remains of the Vance empire.
Vance Development was officially dead, rebranded and absorbed entirely into Crestwood International. I spent my days working sixteen hours, completely reorganizing the company’s internal structure, firing every executive who had helped Dominic cover up his embezzlement, and promoting honest, hard-working managers who had been sidelined for years.
I had moved into a stunning penthouse overlooking Central Park. It was quiet, sleek, and entirely mine. But despite the success, despite the victory, the phantom pain in my lower abdomen remained—a constant, dull ache reminding me of what I had lost.
One evening, as I sat drinking tea while reviewing financial reports, my private line rang. It was Dr. Alexander Reed.
"Audrey," his gentle voice came through the speaker. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Not at all, Alex," I smiled faintly. Dr. Reed had been the only person in that hospital who showed me genuine human warmth. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. But I'm calling because something came across my desk today that I thought you should see immediately," he said, his tone growing serious. "It concerns Dominic’s medical file."
I sat up straight, setting my teacup down. "What about it?"
"Do you remember the fertility tests Dominic had done last month? The ones that confirmed he was completely sterile?"
"Of course," I said. "That was the night he received the results."
"Audrey... I was going through the laboratory logs for our annual audit," Dr. Reed explained carefully. "The original lab report that was sent to Dominic’s personal email didn't come from our chief endocrinologist. It was submitted through an internal nursing portal by a staff member who was fired two days ago for taking bribes."
My heart skipped a beat. "What are you saying, Alex?"
"I re-ran Dominic’s blood samples myself today using our primary lab," Dr. Reed said softly. "Audrey... Dominic isn't sterile. He never was."
The room seemed to spin. I gripped the edge of my desk. "What?!"
"The lab report sent to him was faked," Dr. Reed revealed. "Someone paid five thousand dollars to a corrupt lab technician to upload a altered report into Dominic’s patient portal, making it look like he couldn't father children."
"Who?" I demanded, my blood running cold. "Who paid for the fake report?!"
"We tracked the bank transfer," Dr. Reed answered. "It came from an account registered to Paige Miller."
I sat in dead silence, processing the horrifying truth.
Paige hadn't just been sleeping with my husband—she had engineered a psychological weapon designed to destroy our marriage from the inside out. She knew that if Dominic believed he was sterile, and then found out I was pregnant, he would assume I was cheating on him. She had set a trap to make Dominic turn against me completely, ensuring he would throw me out so she could take my place as the wife of a supposed billionaire.
She didn't know I was actually the one with the money. Her own evil scheme had blown up in her face, leading to the stair fall, the loss of my baby, and the total annihilation of the Vance family.
"Audrey? Are you still there?" Alex asked worriedly.
"I'm here," I whispered, my voice trembling with a terrifying blend of rage and sorrow. "Thank you, Alex. Send me the forensic digital records immediately."
"I already emailed them to Sophia," Alex said. "Audrey... please be careful. People like that are dangerous when they have nothing left to lose."
"Paige Miller hasn't even begun to lose yet," I said, and hung up.
Ten minutes later, Sophia called me.
"Did Alex talk to you?" she asked, her voice brimming with legal fury.
"Yes," I said, pacing across my living room. "Paige engineered the fake medical report. That means she actively conspired to create the domestic dispute that led to my assault and the loss of my child. Is that actionable criminally?"
"It’s more than actionable," Sophia said viciously. "It’s Criminal Conspiracy, Fraud, Medical Falsification, and accomplice to Reckless Endangerment. But Audrey... Paige has vanished."
I stopped pacing. "What do you mean, vanished?"
"She packed up her luxury bags from her apartment after she was served the eviction notice and checked out of her hotel yesterday morning. Her phone is off, her social media accounts are deleted, and she withdrew thirty thousand dollars in cash—the last of her liquid money—from an ATM in Brooklyn last night."
"She’s fleeing," I said.
"Or she's cornered," Sophia warned. "A woman like Paige, who risked everything for wealth and ended up ruined, disgraced, and facing criminal charges... she’s volatile. I'm doubling your security detail starting right now."
"Find her, Sophia," I commanded. "Hire every private investigator in the tri-state area. I want Paige Miller in handcuffs before the end of the week."
Unbeknownst to me at that exact moment, Paige wasn't trying to leave New York.
In a dilapidated motel room in Queens, Paige was sitting on the edge of a stained mattress, staring at a physical photo of me that she had printed from a news article.
Her eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles. Her manicured nails were chipped and broken. Her life was in ruins. Her career as a high-end social climber was over. Her name was ruined. She was broke, hunted by the police, and facing years in prison.
And in her twisted, pathological mind, it was all my fault.
"You took everything from me, Audrey," Paige muttered to herself, her voice a hollow, terrifying whisper. "You were supposed to be the weak one. You were supposed to rot in the street."
She reached into her designer handbag—the only expensive item she had left—and pulled out a unregistered black 9mm handgun she had bought off the street two hours earlier with her remaining cash.
She rack the slide back, loading a bullet into the chamber.
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"If I'm going to prison," Paige whispered, a manic, terrifying smile spreading across her face, "I'm going to make sure you don't get to enjoy your eighty million dollars."
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