Chapter 4 - The Mistress’s AwakeningWhile the board was collapsing at the tower, Vanessa was experiencing a very different kind of nightmare back at the Hargrove mansion.
She had packed three Louis Vuitton trunks with her designer clothes, expensive furs, and the diamond jewelry Grant had bought her using corporate funds—jewelry I had intentionally let him charge, knowing it would be classified as stolen corporate property.
As she dragged her heavy luggage down the grand staircase, she dialed Grant’s cell phone for the fifteenth time.
It went straight to voicemail.
"Damn it, Grant, pick up!" she hissed, stepping out through the front doors into the cool night air.
She reached the driveway, expecting her sleek white Porsche waiting by the fountain. Instead, her car was surrounded by two flatbed tow trucks, and a team of repo men were in the middle of hauling it away.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Vanessa screamed, dropping her luggage and rushing down the steps. "That car belongs to me! You can't touch it!"
A burly repo agent didn't even look at her as he strapped the chains around the Porsche's front bumper. "Orders from Vance Global, ma'am. All vehicles registered under Hargrove corporate leases or secondary funding lines are subject to immediate asset seizure."
"Vance Global? I don't care about Vance Global! Call Grant Hargrove! He's the CEO!"
"Not anymore, lady," the agent laughed darkly, climbing into the cab of the tow truck. "Word on the street is the new CEO locked him out of his corporate accounts twenty minutes ago. You might want to find a bus."
Before Vanessa could process the horror of being stranded in the middle of the night without a car, a pair of headlights swept across the drive.
A black town car pulled up smoothly to the front steps. The rear window rolled down, revealing Eleanor Hargrove, her face caked in smeared makeup, clutching a single small Gucci handbag.
"Get in, Vanessa," Eleanor spat bitterly, her voice trembling with rage.
Vanessa practically threw herself into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut. "Eleanor! What is happening? Where are we going? My apartment lease downtown was in Grant’s name—the landlord just called and said our keycards are deactivated! They threw my things out on the sidewalk!"
Eleanor stared straight ahead out the window, her knuckles white as she gripped her handbag. "Our accounts are frozen. Every credit card, every trust fund, every hidden offshore account—all locked by a court order filed by Vance & Associates."
May you like
Vanessa’s breath hitched. Her voice turned shrill. "Locked? But how? Who is Clara really? How does she have this kind of power?"
Eleanor turned her head slowly, her eyes wide with a terrifying realization. "She didn't marry down, Vanessa. We invited a apex predator into our home, and we spent five years kicking her cage."
