Chapter 7 - The Midnight Boundary
October 18th arrived in absolute silence.
Grant spent the night in a luxury hotel suite near Wall Street, terrified to return to our home and too anxious to endure Savannah’s relentless demands for a lavish rehearsal breakfast. He had spent the entire night watching the clock on his phone, counting down the hours until midnight, when his equity would supposedly lock into place.
He believed that as long as no legal papers were served to him before the day concluded, he was home free. He had even instructed his personal security team to bar any process servers from entering his executive suite at the Vance Logistics headquarters.
At 7:30 AM, he texted me: *Claire, let’s sign a quiet settlement today. I won’t contest your ownership of the townhouses. Let’s part as friends.*
I didn't bother to reply.
Instead, I sat in the back of a chauffeured town car with Evelyn Cross. On Evelyn’s lap rested a crimson folder stamped with the seal of the New York County Supreme Court.
“The filing went through electronic docketing at 12:01 AM this morning,” Evelyn said, checking her tablet. “The judge granted an immediate ex-parte restraining order freezing all shares, bank accounts, and executive authorities associated with Grant Sterling, pending formal adjudication of fraud and breach of the marital covenant.”
“Did the process server locate him?” I asked.
Evelyn smiled a wolfish smile. “We won't need a process server in an alleyway, Claire. Grant is walking right into the lions' den himself. He thinks he’s attending a routine budget presentation at nine o’clock.”
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I looked out the window at the towering steel-and-glass skyscraper bearing my family’s name. For eight years, Grant had occupied the penthouse corner office. He had forgotten whose name was chiseled into the granite foundation.
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