Chapter 6 - The Fall Out
Seventy-two hours later.
The Chicago skyline was illuminated by a crisp, brilliant winter sun reflecting off the frozen surface of Lake Michigan.
High above the city, on the top three floors of the Vance Global Tower, Olivia stood in the vast, sunlit art gallery of her father’s private estate residence. She was wearing a cream-colored cashmere sweater dress that comfortably embraced her four-month pregnancy, her dark hair pulled back into an elegant knot.
In her right hand, she held a tablet displaying the morning’s global financial headlines.
THE WALL STREET JOURNAL: STERLING GROUP COLLAPSES IN HISTORIC IPO DISASTER; EXECUTIVES ARRESTED FOR FRAUD.
FORBES: THE MYSTERY OF OLIVIA VANCE: THE BILLION-DOLLAR HEIRESS WHO HID IN PLAIN SIGHT.
NEW YORK POST: FROM PLAZA HUMILIATION TO RIKERS ISLAND: THE METEORIC FALL OF LIAM STERLING.
A soft knock sounded at the gallery door.
Sir Arthur Pendelton stepped inside, holding a leather folder under his arm. "Good morning, Miss Vance. I hope you are feeling well today?"
"I’m feeling very well, Arthur," Olivia said, turning away from the window with a calm, welcoming smile. "Thank you. How are the legal proceedings progressing?"
Pendelton opened the folder on a marble display table. "Liam Sterling’s legal team filed an emergency motion for bail yesterday afternoon. It was denied by the federal judge, who cited him as a severe flight risk due to foreign accounts identified by our intelligence team."
Olivia walked over to the table, her eyes scanning the legal documents. "And his mother?"
"Constance Sterling is currently residing in the medical ward at Rosewood Correctional Facility following a panic attack," Pendelton replied smoothly. "Her personal assets have been frozen to satisfy the six hundred and eighty million dollar debt owed to Vance Global. Her penthouse in Manhattan will be auctioned on Friday."
Olivia paused, her fingers resting gently on the paper. "And Isabella Thorne?"
"Miss Thorne’s father lost his distribution contracts on Tuesday," Pendelton said with a faint smile. "She was evicted from her apartment in Soho yesterday evening. According to our field agents, she has returned to her parents' modest home in Indiana, where she is currently attempting to avoid process servers serving her with a civil lawsuit for intentional infliction of emotional distress and physical assault."
Olivia closed her eyes for a second, letting out a soft, slow breath.
There was a time when she would have felt a sting of pity for them. She had spent two years attempting to appease Constance’s endless demands, trying to earn a place at a table where she was never meant to belong. She had spent months turning a blind eye to Liam’s late-night meetings, his coldness, his growing arrogance.
She realized now that her humility had not been appreciated; it had merely been weaponized against her.
"What about the divorce papers?" Olivia asked, looking up at Pendelton.
Pendelton pulled a thick, blue-bound legal document from the folder and laid it beside a gold fountain pen.
"Fully drafted," Pendelton said. "Liam Sterling signed them three hours ago from his cell at Rikers Island. He surrendered all parental rights, all claims to marital assets, and signed an absolute non-disclosure agreement with a fifty-million-dollar penalty clause for any breach."
Olivia took the gold pen.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she pressed the nib to the paper and signed her name in bold, fluid strokes: Olivia Vance.
She set the pen down, feeling an incredible, light freedom bloom inside her chest. The name Sterling was erased from her life forever.
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"Thank you, Arthur," she said softly.
"It is my distinct privilege, Miss Vance," Pendelton bowed his head slightly, gathering the signed documents. "Your father is waiting for you in the conservatory for breakfast."
