Chapter 4 - The AftershocksBy sunrise, the story wasn't just local news; it was a digital wildfire.
“GOLD-DIGGING GROOM GETS DESTROYED AT LUXURY WEDDING: EX-WIFE TURNS OUT TO BE HOTEL BILLIONAIRES' HEIR!” screamed the headline of the Chicago Tribune’s digital lifestyle section.
By mid-morning, TikTok and X (formerly Twitter) were saturated with shaky mobile phone footage from the Aurelia Grand lobby. The clip of Daniel staring blankly at the red-flashing card terminal had been viewed over ten million times. Memes of his devastated expression flooded feeds alongside commentary dissecting his swift downfall.
I sat at my mahogany desk on the thirty-fifth floor, reviewing the quarterly financial projections, when my secretary buzzed through.
“Director Bennett, you have a visitor in the ground-floor reception area. He refuses to leave.”
“Who is it?”
“Mr. Arthur Reed. Daniel’s father.”
I paused, tapping my pen against the desk. Arthur Reed was a retired high school history teacher from a quiet suburb outside the city. Unlike his son, Arthur was a hardworking, honest man who had spent his entire life warning Daniel against his obsessive hunger for flash and status. During my marriage to Daniel, Arthur had always treated me with genuine kindness, frequently apologizing for his son’s reckless spending habits.
“Send him up to my private office,” I instructed.
Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors chimed, and Arthur walked into my office. He looked older, heavier with exhaustion. His gray hair was uncombed, and his worn leather jacket looked entirely out of place against the sleek, modern luxury of the Aurelia headquarters.
He didn't look at the panoramic view of the Chicago skyline. He just looked at me with deep, profound sorrow.
“Elena,” he said softly, his voice gravelly. “I’m... I don’t even know what to say to you. I am so, so sorry.”
“Sit down, Arthur,” I said, standing up and walking over to the small sitting area by the window. I poured two cups of hot black coffee and handed him one. “You don't need to apologize for Daniel.”
Arthur took the cup with trembling hands. “I raised him better than that, Elena. At least, I tried to. But he always wanted the shortcut. He wanted the crown without building the kingdom. When you two got married, I thought... I hoped working alongside a brilliant woman like you would ground him.”
“He didn't want a partner, Arthur. He wanted a trophy case,” I said gently, sitting across from him. “And he found someone just like him in Vanessa.”
“Where is he now?” Arthur asked, staring into the dark liquid of his coffee.
“His condo was repossessed this morning by the bank because his primary mortgage was co-signed against lines of credit that defaulted overnight,” I said without a trace of pity, stating cold facts. “His car is in our impound lot. As for Vanessa, her family has reportedly disowned her after discovering the mountain of debt she tried to pass off onto Daniel.”
Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddering sigh.
“He called me at four in the morning, crying,” Arthur whispered. “Begging for money. Asking if I could mortgage my house to help him pay off the hotel bill.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him no,” Arthur opened his eyes, looking me straight in the eye. “I told him that for the first time in his life, he has to face the consequences of his own actions. I came here today not to ask for mercy for him, Elena... but to give you this.”
Arthur reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a heavy, velvet-lined box. He placed it carefully on the glass table between us and pushed it toward me.
I opened it. Inside sat a vintage gold pocket watch—an heirloom belonging to my late grandfather, which I had gifted to Daniel on our wedding day six years ago.
“He left it on my kitchen table this morning before he stormed out,” Arthur said quietly. “He said it was too painful to look at. I want you to have it back. It belongs to your family, not a thief.”
I looked down at the watch, its delicate hands frozen in time.
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“Thank you, Arthur,” I said quietly, closing the box. “You’re a good man. You’re welcome in this city, and in any Aurelia property, anytime you want. On my personal account.”
Arthur gave a sad, bitter smile. “Thank you, Elena. But I think I’ve had quite enough of Aurelia accounts for one lifetime.”
