Chapter 6 - The Morning After
The light of the Sunday morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my apartment overlooking the downtown riverfront.
It was 8:00 AM. I was sitting at my kitchen island wearing a comfortable gray cashmere sweater, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, and looking at the financial reports spread across my laptop screen.
Beside my mug, my personal phone was vibrating continuously.
It had been vibrating since 6:00 AM.
There were forty-two missed calls from my mother, eighteen from my father, and over fifty frantic text messages from various aunts, uncles, and cousins.
Claire, answer your phone right now! Your father is having chest pains! How could you do this to your own sister?! She hasn't stopped crying all night! The Vance family lawyers called Richard at 2:00 AM! They are demanding a full refund of all wedding expenses! You need to call Daniel and tell him you lied! You need to fix this before the local paper prints the story!
I didn't answer a single text. I set my phone face down on the granite counter and took a slow, quiet sip of my coffee.
At 8:30 AM, my door chime rang.
I walked over to the hallway video monitor. Standing outside my door was not my furious father or my weeping mother.
It was Arthur Vance.
Arthur was Daniel’s father—the senior partner of Vance Financial Group and the head of the State Historical Preservation Board. He was wearing a sharp charcoal suit, his gray hair perfectly combed, holding a leather briefcase in one hand and a white bakery box in the other.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"Good morning, Ms. Sterling," Arthur said, offering a small, polite nod. "I hope I am not disturbing you too early on a Sunday."
"Not at all, Mr. Vance," I said, stepping aside. "Please, come in."
Arthur walked into my apartment, setting the bakery box on the kitchen island. "Fresh almond croissants from the bakery downstairs. I thought you might appreciate something lighter than wedding cake."
"Thank you," I smiled faintly, pulling a clean plate from the cabinet. "How is Daniel?"
Arthur let out a long, slow sigh, stepping over to the window to look out at the river.
"He’s angry at himself, mostly," Arthur said quietly. "He feels like a fool for letting himself be manipulated for two years. But he’s relieved. If this explosion had happened six months from now, after the legal property filings had been processed, it would have been a financial and social nightmare for our family."
"I'm sorry it happened at the reception, Mr. Vance," I said genuinely. "I didn't intend to cause a public spectacle."
"You didn't cause it, Claire," Arthur said, turning to face me with a sharp, discerning look in his dark eyes. "My wife and I have watched the way your family treats you for years at public events. We saw how Richard pushed you into the background while claiming your corporate restructuring achievements as his own. And we saw your sister yank that chair away yesterday."
Arthur pulled a document from his leather briefcase and set it on the counter beside my laptop.
"I am here this morning in my capacity as Chairman of the Historical Preservation Board," Arthur explained. "We received the executed lease agreement for Hawthorne House yesterday afternoon from your corporate attorney. The board has reviewed the terms, and we are thoroughly impressed by how meticulously you protected the estate's historical integrity while securing a high yield for your company."
"Thank you," I said. "Hawthorne House was my grandfather's proudest work. I wasn't going to let my father mortgage it away again."
"Which brings me to my second reason for visiting," Arthur continued, his eyes narrowing slightly with professional interest. "My sources tell me that Richard is planning an emergency board meeting of Hawthorne Realty for tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM. He intends to attempt a corporate vote to strip you of your CFO position and revoke your voting shares on grounds of 'breach of fiduciary duty to family interests'."
I let out a soft, dry chuckle, taking a sip of my coffee. "Dad always was terrible at reading corporate bylaws."
"He doesn't have the voting majority to remove you, does he?" Arthur asked, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Not even close," I said. "Grandpa left forty percent of the voting shares directly to me, thirty percent to the employee pension trust—which I manage—and gave Dad thirty percent purely as a decorative title. He can hold all the emergency meetings he wants. He’s running a company where he’s just a ghost in an expensive suit."
May you like
Arthur nodded approvingly, picking up his briefcase.
"Good," Arthur said smoothly. "Because if you are planning to take full operational control of Hawthorne Realty tomorrow morning, the Vance Financial Group would like to discuss a $12 million institutional development line with your new board."
