Chapter 3 - The PR Disaster
By noon the following day, the front pages of every major media outlet in the city were plastered with headlines about the Grand Regency disaster.
At first, Dylan’s high-priced PR firm had launched a pre-emptive strike. Early morning news blogs ran glowing headlines: "HEROIC CEO DYLAN VANCE SHIELDS CHILD DURING TRAGIC CHANDELIER COLLAPSE."
The articles featured an emotional interview with Sierra Montgomery, who wept tearfully for the cameras outside her high-rise apartment, describing Dylan as a "selfless guardian angel who risked his life to save my innocent boy."
However, Dylan’s victory spin lasted less than three hours.
At 2:00 PM, a anonymous leak dropped onto every major social media platform and national news desk simultaneously. It was a crisp, high-definition forty-second video clip taken directly from the Grand Regency’s overhead security cameras.
The video didn't lie.
It clearly showed the sudden snap of the chandelier cable. It showed little Haley sitting directly under the central drop zone. And it captured, in harrowing clarity, Dylan Vance turning his head, eyeing his biological daughter, and deliberately sprinting ten yards to his right to dive over Ryan instead.
It then captured me—Elena Sterling—throwing myself across the floor like a madwoman, shielding Haley with my own body, taking the crushing weight of the brass frame on my shoulders.
The internet exploded.
The hashtag #FatherOfTheYear trended globally, used with scorching irony and fury by tens of millions of outraged viewers.
Comments flooded the news feeds:
"He literally walked past his own dying daughter to save his mistress's kid?!"
"Look at the woman on the floor bleeding while he's cuddling the other child! Absolute monster!"
"Boycott Vance Conglomerate!"
By 3:30 PM, Vance Conglomerate’s stock had plunged fourteen percent in intraday trading—the largest single-day drop in the company's thirty-year history.
Inside the executive boardroom on the 50th floor of the Vance Tower, Dylan was pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his tie loosened, his expensive leather shoes squeaking against the polished floorboards.
"Fix this!" Dylan roared at his head of public relations, throwing a tablet onto the conference table. "Why isn't the video being taken down for copyright?!"
"Because the legal owners of the hotel property issued a public release waiver, Mr. Vance!" the PR manager said, pale and trembling. "We can't block it! Mainstream news networks are running it on a continuous loop! Sponsors are pulling out! Three major European investors just suspended negotiations for the Q4 merger!"
The heavy oak doors of the boardroom swung open.
A tall, distinguished man in a tailor-made charcoal suit walked in, carrying a leather briefcase. It was Julian Cross—the legendary trial attorney hired by my father, known in corporate elite circles as "The Executioner."
Dylan glared at Julian. "Who authorized you to enter my board meeting?"
Julian didn't blink. He casually set his briefcase on the table, unclicked the latches, and pulled out a stack of formal legal documents.
"Mr. Vance, I am serving you on behalf of my client, Mrs. Elena Vance," Julian said smoothly, his deep voice commanding total authority. "These are initial filings for an emergency temporary restraining order, full primary physical custody of Haley Vance, and an application for immediate freeze on all joint matrimonial assets pending a forensic audit."
Dylan burst out laughing, though his voice sounded hollow and panicked. "A freeze on joint assets? On what grounds? Elena hasn't put a single dollar into our accounts in five years!"
Julian smiled—a razor-sharp, dangerous smile. "That is where you are wildly mistaken, Mr. Vance. We have already submitted evidence to the family court showing that sixty percent of your personal startup capital five years ago was secured via a private loan guaranteed by Sterling Holdings—a loan that went into technical default three months ago when you quietly transferred $2.4 million of corporate funds into a personal trust belonging to one Miss Sierra Montgomery."
Dylan’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened in sheer terror. "That... that was an investment property deal!"
"It was embezzlement of marital assets," Julian corrected calmly. "And unless you sign the temporary custody release for Haley right now, granting Mrs. Vance exclusive residence at the New York estate, I will personally file criminal fraud charges with the District Attorney's office before the market closes today."
Dylan felt the walls closing in. He looked around the boardroom, but his board members were all avoiding eye contact, staring down at their laptops, terrified for their own positions and shares.
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"You're trying to ruin me," Dylan rasped, glaring at Julian. "Elena is doing this to ruin me!"
"No, Mr. Vance," Julian said, closing his briefcase with a crisp click. "Elena is simply reclaiming what is hers. You ruined yourself the second you turned your back on your daughter."
