Chapter 7 - The Final AuditThe sun dipped below the Manhattan skyline, casting long, bruised shadows across the penthouse floor.
Dominic stood frozen by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the city lights that had once seemed his to command. Now, every single hotel bearing his family name across the tri-state area was flashing new digital signage: Transitioning to Vance Global Hospitality.
"What happens to me now?" Dominic asked quietly, his back turned to us. His voice lacked any remaining trace of arrogance, reduced to a hollow, miserable whisper.
"That depends entirely on the federal investigators," Simone replied, packing her laptop back into its leather case with crisp, efficient movements. "The forensic audit packages have already been handed over to the Department of Justice and the SEC. Given the scale of the wire fraud and forgery, your legal team will have a very difficult time keeping you out of federal custody."
Dominic didn't answer. He didn't turn around. He just stared out at the glittering lights of a city that had already forgotten his name.
"Come on, Evelyn," Simone said gently, placing a hand on my arm. "The car is waiting downstairs. Your daughter is waiting for you."
I took one last look around the penthouse—the marble island where he had handed me the divorce papers six months ago, the empty hallway where he had stood in his wedding tuxedo twelve hours ago, demanding an NDA.
Grief is painful. But clarity is clean.
"Let's go," I said.
We walked out of the penthouse, the heavy double doors clicking shut behind us with a permanent, final sound.
Downstairs in the back of a black executive SUV, Maya was sleeping soundly in her car seat, her tiny chest rising and falling in perfect, peaceful rhythm. I slid in beside her, gently resting my hand against her small, warm blanket.
Simone climbed into the front passenger seat, turning around with a small, exhausted smile. "Well, Evelyn. What’s our first order of business as Vance Global Holdings tomorrow morning?"
May you like
I looked down at my daughter, watching her tiny fingers twitch as she dreamed, and then looked out the tinted window as the Vale Grand Hotel sign above us flickered, went dark, and slowly illuminated with a brand-new name.
"First," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in months, "we schedule a board meeting. And second... we buy a new crib."
