Chapter 4 - The Family Meeting at the Mansion
Word travels fast when an empire collapses. By noon, Victoria and Natalie Vance had been evicted from their luxury townhomes—properties which, as it turned out, were also managed by the Brooks family real estate portfolio. Stripped of their credit cards, their luxury vehicles, and their social standing, they descended upon Dominic like a pair of frantic harpies, cornering him in the sterile lobby of a downtown diner where he was trying to figure out how to pay for a cup of coffee with loose change.
“Dominic! What is the meaning of this?!” Victoria shrieked, slamming her designer handbag onto the Formica table, completely oblivious to the fact that the bag was now essentially worthless. “My cards are blocked! The concierge at my building told us we have two hours to clear our belongings onto the sidewalk! Some men in suits threw our clothes into trash bags!”
“And my boutique shopping account is frozen!” Natalie wailed, dabbing at dry eyes with a paper napkin. “People are looking at us like we’re criminals! Dominic, fix this right now! Call Audrey!”
Dominic slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his designer suit wrinkled and smelling faintly of motel carpet. The arrogant, untouchable tech CEO was gone, replaced by a broken man staring into the abyss of his own monumental stupidity.
“Audrey isn't answering,” Dominic said numbly, his voice hollow.
“Well, make her answer!” Victoria hissed, leaning across the table, her face twisted in rage. “She’s your wife! Grovel if you have to! Tell her to call off her father! Who does that old contractor think he is, treating us like stray dogs? We are the Vances!”
Dominic let out a harsh, broken laugh that sounded dangerously like a sob.
“Mom... shut up. Just shut up,” Dominic muttered, burying his face in his trembling hands.
Victoria gasped, clutching her pearls. “How dare you speak to me like that! After everything we sacrificed for you—!”
“Sacrificed?” Dominic snapped, lifting his head, his eyes blazing with sudden, furious despair. “What did you sacrifice? What did any of us ever sacrifice? We didn't build anything! Everything we had—this diner, our clothes, the SUV, the penthouse, my company—it was all funded by Charles Brooks!”
Victoria blinked, stunned. “Charles... the contractor? Don't be absurd, he builds strip malls and parking garages—”
“He owns Brooks Global Corporation!” Dominic roared, slamming his fist onto the table so hard the coffee mugs rattled. “He is one of the richest men in the western hemisphere! And I treated his only daughter like a servant! I made her take a city bus home from the hospital five days after major abdominal surgery while I drove you two to an expensive bistro for lunch!”
The diner went dead silent. The waitress dropping off a plate of fries stopped in her tracks. Victoria and Natalie stared at him, their mouths opening and closing like fish out of water.
“The bus...” Natalie whispered, the color draining from her face. “You... you made Audrey take the bus?”
“And now she’s divorcing me,” Dominic whispered, staring blankly at the sticky tabletop. “And her father is going to strip us down to the atomic level.”
Before Victoria could recover her breath to scream, the bell above the diner door jingled. Three men in immaculate charcoal suits walked in, their movements commanding instant attention. The lead operative—Marcus Thorne—walked straight to their table, stopping right beside Dominic's chair.
“Mr. Vance,” Marcus said smoothly, placing a thick manila envelope on the table. “Mr. Charles Brooks extends his regards. These are your formal divorce papers, along with a restraining order preventing you, your mother, and your sister from coming within five hundred yards of Audrey Brooks or her child.”
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Dominic stared at the envelope as if it were a venomous snake. “Can I... can I just see my son? For five minutes? Please?”
“Mr. Brooks said to deliver this message to you verbatim,” Marcus replied, leaning down slightly so only Dominic could hear. “‘You made a newborn baby and a recovering mother ride a city bus. You are lucky I am letting you walk out of this city upright.’ Good day, Mr. Vance.”
