Chapter 8 - Roots in New England
While Chicago burned under the weight of scandal, Boston greeted the Vance girls with the crisp, golden sunlight of a crisp October morning.
Mariana stood by the large bay window of their new Brookline brownstone, watching Chloe, Cami, Sophia, and Maya laughing together as they unpacked boxes of books and clothes in the living room. For sixteen years, their lives had been dictated by Beatrice’s archaic rules, Arthur’s suffocating expectations, and the gilded cage of a loveless marriage.
Now, the air in the apartment felt lighter, sweeter, and entirely their own.
"Breakfast is served!" Elena announced, carrying a large tray of pancakes and fresh fruit to the dining table.
The girls rushed over, chattering excitedly about their new school uniforms and the park down the street where they could ride bikes without being watched by family guards or scrutinized by their grandmother. Seeing the genuine smiles on her daughters' faces was all the confirmation Mariana needed. Leaving wasn't just an escape; it was a resurrection.
Later that morning, sitting at the kitchen island with her laptop open, Mariana reviewed the preliminary settlement drafts sent over by Sarah Jenkins. The terms were staggering.
Because of the proven corporate fraud, the forged equity transfer, and the embezzlement of company funds to finance Arthur’s secret lifestyle, Sarah had successfully frozen all of Arthur’s personal accounts and initiated a forced buyout of his shares. Vance Fine Furniture was moments away from restructuring under a completely new executive board—one in which Mariana would hold absolute controlling interest.
Her phone buzzed. It was an unknown Chicago number.
Mariana stared at the screen for a moment before swiping to answer.
"Mariana?"
The voice was ragged, defeated, and entirely stripped of its former arrogance. It was Arthur.
"Arthur," Mariana said evenly, her voice calm and devoid of emotion. "How is the weather in Chicago?"
"Please, Mariana," Arthur pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "We can settle this outside of court. Drop the fraud charges. Let’s negotiate a reasonable split. My mother... my mother is sick, the company is in freefall, and the board is going to strip me of everything I’ve ever worked for."
Mariana took a slow sip of her coffee, looking out the window at her daughters playing in the courtyard below.
"Arthur, sixteen years ago, I brought my savings, my parents' land, and my life's work to build Vance Fine Furniture," Mariana replied, her voice steady and resolute. "You traded all of that for lies, secrets, and a fabricated legacy. You told me as we left court that you had other responsibilities now, and that I shouldn't expect a single dollar beyond your child support deposit."
"Mariana, please—"
May you like
"Enjoy your responsibilities, Arthur," Mariana said softly. "Because as of tomorrow morning, I am stepping in as the majority controlling owner of Vance Fine Furniture. My daughters and I are moving forward. You are history."
She clicked end call, blocking the number permanently.
