Chapter 9 - A New Horizon
Three months later.
The penthouse suite of the Sterling Tower in Manhattan was flooded with golden afternoon sunlight. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the city stretched out in a breathtaking panorama of steel, glass, and endless possibility.
Inside, the air smelled of fresh lavender and baby powder.
I sat in a plush velvet armchair by the window, cradling a tiny, sleeping bundle wrapped in soft white cashmere. Little Leo Sterling-Vance—or rather, Sterling, since the court had officially granted my petition to drop Dominic's last name entirely—was breathing softly against my chest, his tiny fingers curled into tight, perfect little fists.
The divorce had been finalized six weeks ago. It was swift, brutal, and completely one-sided. Dominic had tried to contest it at first, but without his family's money, without social standing, and with my father's legal team presenting a mountain of evidence regarding emotional abuse and harassment, he quickly folded. Last I heard, he had moved back in with Eleanor, living in a cramped suburban rental while working a low-level desk job to pay off mountains of inherited debt.
Chloe’s high-society wedding had become the biggest tabloid scandal of the year, destroying her reputation and ending her engagement to an oil heir who ran for the hills the moment the police report dropped. Amanda was facing criminal charges for grand larceny.
As for me? I had never felt more alive.
The door to the nursery opened softly, and my father walked in, carrying a stack of architectural blueprints under his arm. He stopped by the crib, smiling down at his grandson with a look of pure, unadulterated adoration that he had always reserved for me.
"How's my favorite grandson doing?" my father whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Leo's soft forehead.
"Sleeping like an angel," I whispered back, adjusting the baby blanket. "Though give him two hours and he'll be screaming the place down."
My father chuckled, pulling up a chair beside me. He unrolled the blueprints across the small coffee table. "Good thing we're expanding the design studio downstairs, then. You're going to need a lot more space for your new art direction firm. The board approved the rebranding this morning. Sterling & Co. Creative is officially launching on Monday."
I looked down at the blueprints, tracing the clean, modern lines of the office space that would bear my name—not my husband's name, not my family's shadow, but my name.
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"Thank you, Dad," I said softly, looking up into his wise, kind eyes. "For everything. For not stepping in until I asked, and for catching me when I finally fell."
My father smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "A Sterling never falls, sweetheart. We just take a moment to adjust our crown."
