Chapter 3 - The Cold Morning
At 07:30 AM, the glass-and-steel headquarters of Vance Logistics stood quietly against the gray morning sky.
Brandon walked through the front doors wearing his three-thousand-dollar tailored navy suit, holding a hot cup of artisanal coffee. Beside him walked Sonia, dressed in an expensive silk blouse that subtly draped over her waist, her face glowing with triumph.
Behind them came Brenda, holding young Mason’s hand as the boy noisily chewed on a pastry.
"Don't worry about the small scene Hannah made last night, Brandon," Brenda said loudly as they approached the private executive elevator. "She’ll be crying on her knees by noon when she realizes she doesn't have a penny to her name."
"She’s just bitter," Brandon scoffed, scanning his gold-tier executive security badge against the elevator reader. "She thinks because her father used to be somebody in this city, she can talk down to me. But I built this company. I run this ship."
The security reader beeped.
Access Denied. Contact System Administrator.
Brandon frowned, tapping the heavy gold card against the scanner again.
Access Denied.
"What is wrong with this useless machine?" Brandon muttered, annoyance flashing across his face. He slammed his palm against the glass panel.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Vance?" a firm, cold voice echoed across the marble lobby.
Brandon turned around to see Marcus Vance, the Head of Corporate Security and his second cousin, walking toward him accompanied by two uniformed guards.
"Marcus! What’s wrong with the executive elevator?" Brandon demanded, gesturing at the flashing red light. "Fix it immediately. I have a meeting with the loan officers from First National in thirty minutes."
Marcus stopped three feet away, his hands folded neatly behind his back. His expression was as hard as granite.
"The loan officers aren't coming, Brandon," Marcus said flatly.
"What do you mean they aren't coming?" Brandon barked. "I spoke to Lucas Hayes yesterday! The approval was supposed to be processed overnight!"
"The loan application was formally rejected at 06:00 AM," Marcus replied, pulling a official legal notice from his coat pocket and handing it to Brandon. "Furthermore, your executive security clearance has been revoked by order of the majority shareholder."
Brenda let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "Majority shareholder? What are you talking about, Marcus? Brandon is the majority shareholder! He owns fifty-one percent of Vance Logistics!"
"He owned fifty-one percent of the voting management shares under the condition that the Hayes Trust maintained its underwriting guarantee," Marcus corrected, pulling out a second document. "At midnight, Mrs. Hannah Vance—formerly Hannah Hayes—executed her right under Article 9 of the corporate charter. She has frozen all management voting rights due to unauthorized diversion of corporate capital."
Brandon’s face turned from red to an ash-gray color. The coffee cup in his hand began to tremble slightly.
"Hannah?" Brandon choked out, his voice cracking. "Hannah doesn't have the power to do that! She’s my wife! She doesn't even come to the office!"
"She doesn't need to come to the office, Mr. Vance," a smooth voice called out from the main entrance.
We turned to see Arthur Pendelton, the senior managing partner of Pendelton & Associates—the most feared asset protection law firm on the East Coast—walking into the lobby. Behind him walked my brother, Lucas Hayes.
Sonia shrank back slightly behind Brandon, clutching her designer handbag tightly against her chest.
"Mr. Pendelton?" Brandon stammered, stepping forward. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you here with my brother-in-law?"
Arthur set a heavy leather briefcase on the marble reception desk and unclasped the brass lock with a sharp click.
"As of seven o'clock this morning," Arthur announced smoothly, "Mrs. Hannah Hayes Vance has officially filed for legal separation on grounds of domestic violence, financial fraud, and marital infidelity."
Brenda shrieked. "Infidelity? That’s slander! He’s just helping his late brother’s family!"
Arthur didn't even look at her. He pulled a thick folder of bank statements and color photographs from his briefcase and laid them flat on the desk, face up.
May you like
The top photograph was a crystal-clear shot of Brandon and Sonia standing inside the sales office of the four-bedroom estate, holding hands as they signed the purchase agreement. Below it was a printed ledger showing two hundred and forty-two thousand dollars transferred directly from Vance Logistics’ emergency reserve into Sonia’s private bank account.
The lobby fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
