Chapter 5 - The Ashes of Newport
The fallout from the sentencing struck the upper crust of New England like a seismic shock. Within forty-eight hours of Dominic being led away in handcuffs, the dominoes began to crash down with terrifying speed.
At the Blackwood estate in Newport, workers in high-visibility vests were already tearing down the white velvet canopy that had framed the tragic wedding. The custom crystal cake stand lay shattered inside a black industrial trash bin out back—a fitting icon for the total collapse of a dynasty.
Inside the quiet drawing room, Victoria Blackwood sat alone in the dark. Her hair, usually sculpted with immaculately set silver waves, hung loose and unkempt around her hollow cheeks. Her legal team had abandoned her two hours ago after delivering the crushing news: federal prosecutors had officially frozen all family trusts, offshore accounts, and domestic assets. The government had initiated asset forfeiture proceedings against the Blackwood mansion itself, declaring it property acquired through money laundering operations.
A sharp tap of leather soles against marble broke the silence.
Winston Carmichael stepped into the room. He wore a plain raincoat and carried a leather suitcase, his posture stripped of the supreme authority he had radiated for thirty years as the family’s chief fixer.
“The car is waiting outside, Victoria,” Winston said, his voice gray and lifeless. “The federal marshals will arrive at noon tomorrow to seal the gates. We have to be gone before the press blockade at the driveway breaches the perimeter.”
Victoria didn't move. She stared at the unlit fireplace, her hands trembling in her lap. “How much do we have left, Winston? Tell me the truth. Not what the lawyers say for the press.”
Winston let out a raspy, exhausted sigh. “Nothing. Saraphina’s cousin Marcus Vance turned over every shell company ledger to the Department of Justice. The Sterling merger is dead, the creditors are filing involuntary bankruptcy petitions against Blackwood Enterprises, and the civil suits from injured investors are mounting into hundreds of millions.” He looked at her with a mix of pity and cold detachment. “It’s over, Victoria. Dominic’s hubris destroyed everything your husband built.”
Victoria turned slowly, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, venomous spark. “Dominic didn't ruin us. She did. That street-born hypocrite... I offered her fifty thousand dollars to keep her quiet, and she used it to build a bomb.”
“She didn't use fifty thousand dollars to build a bomb, Victoria,” Winston corrected, stepping back toward the door. “She used the truth. You gave her the match when you helped Dominic cover up his cruelty. I suggest you sign the surrender documents before they come for you with an arrest warrant of your own.”
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Winston turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall until the front door clicked shut.
Victoria sat alone in the quiet dark, listening to the ocean wind howl through the hollow grand halls of her ruined paradise.
