Chapter 7 - Whispers in the City
By the end of the week, the fall of the Morrison family had become the talk of high-society New York.
The tabloids had a field day. Headlines screamed: FROM MANSION TO MUD: THE RISE AND FALL OF THE MORRISON DYNASTY, and THE MYSTERY CHAIRPERSON: WHO IS THE WOMAN BEHIND AETHER GLOBAL?
For years, Cassidy had guarded her privacy fiercely. She had deliberately kept her face out of the press, preferring to operate in the shadows while building her empire from the ground up. But now, with the restructuring of Morrison Industries complete and her former family safely dismantled, the corporate world was desperate to catch a glimpse of the mastermind.
Inside her penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park—a home she had purchased two years ago under a blind trust, while Brendan still complained about their rent—Cassidy stood by the window, feeling the gentle movement of her daughter inside her.
Her phone chimed. It was a text from Arthur Vance.
Press conference is set for tomorrow morning, Madam Chairperson. Global media outlets are confirming attendance. Are you prepared to step into the light?
Cassidy looked down at her reflection in the glass. She looked serene, powerful, and deeply at peace.
I am, she typed back.
May you like
Down below, miles away in a modest, cramped studio apartment on the wrong side of town, Brendan and Diane were learning what it meant to live in the real world. For the first time in their lives, there were no butlers, no chefs, no chauffeur-driven cars, and no endless bank accounts to bail them out of their own incompetence.
Jessica had packed her bags and left Brendan within twenty-four hours of the asset freeze, taking what little she could salvage and cutting all ties with a man who was now legally and financially radioactive. Brendan sat at a cheap laminate kitchen table, staring at a stack of overdue utility bills, realizing too late that the woman he had thrown dirty water on was the very sky that had kept him afloat.
