CHAPTER 3: THE REVERSAL OF FORTUNE
"THE PUBLIC SQUIRM"
The internet is a fickle beast. It loves a villain, but it loves the fall of a hypocrite even more.
When Vance Logistics released the high-definition restaurant security footage along with a formal statement containing certified financial ledgers showing exactly how many millions Ethan had spent supporting his mother and sister over the last decade, the public narrative didn't just shift—it flipped like a tidal wave.
The viral video amassed 20 million views in six hours.
The very same commenters who had been calling for Ethan’s cancellation suddenly turned their fury toward Beverly and Sydney.
“Oh my god, the mother is a literal monster! Her daughter-in-law is visibly suffering from severe pregnancy sickness and she tells her to eat in the bathroom?!” “Look at the sister laughing! She’s wearing a designer dress paid for by the brother she’s trying to ruin!” “Ethan Vance isn't a villain, he's a saint for putting up with these parasites for this long! Free Ethan!”
By the next morning, Beverly and Sydney couldn't leave their hotel room. Paparazzi and independent reporters were stationed outside the lobby, eager to get a shot of the "most hated mother-daughter duo in the country."
Inside the room, the air was thick with desperation. The hotel manager had just knocked on their door, informing them that their credit card on file had been flagged as fraudulent and they needed to settle their current $2,400 bill immediately or the police would be called.
"Sydney, do something!" Beverly panicked, her regal facade completely shattered. Her hair was unwashed, and her expensive silk blouse was wrinkled. "Call your friends! Call Donald, he’s a millionaire!"
"Donald blocked my number, Mom!" Sydney screamed, clutching her head. "Everyone has blocked my number! Look at Twitter! Look at TikTok! My face is everywhere! People are calling me 'The Chiffon Bully'! I can't even open my Instagram without getting thousands of death threats!"
Just then, there was a sharp, authoritative knock on the door.
Beverly gasped. "Is that the police?"
Sydney approached the door with shaking hands and looked through the peephole. It wasn't the police. It was a man in a sharp gray suit carrying a thick leather briefcase.
Sydney opened the door slightly. "Who are you?"
"My name is Christopher Vance, chief legal counsel for Ethan Vance," the man said, his face expressionless. "I have some documents that require your immediate signature."
He stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation. He placed two thick folders on the coffee table.
"What is this?" Beverly demanded, trying to summon her old authority, though her voice wobbled. "Is Ethan crawling back? Is he offering a settlement?"
"Not quite," Christopher said with a cold smile. "This is a formal notice of asset seizure and immediate liquidation. Beverly, because your home was owned by Ethan’s corporate entity, and because you signed a personal guarantee clause five years ago to secure a $500,000 line of credit for your luxury boutique shop—which failed, I might add—Ethan has called in the debt. Since you cannot pay, the bank is taking ownership of all personal property inside the house to auction it off."
Beverly’s face drained of color. "My jewelry? My art collection? My antique furniture?"
"Everything bought with Ethan’s money belongs to the liquidation pool," Christopher stated flatly. "And for you, Sydney... this is a formal eviction notice for your apartment, effective in 48 hours. Furthermore, we have filed a lawsuit for civil fraud. We have proof that you altered financial statements to receive those 'temporary loans' from Ethan's company."
Sydney dropped to her knees on the hotel carpet. "Please... please, tell Ethan I’m sorry! I was just following Mom’s lead! She told me Macy was taking Ethan away from us! She told me we had to put Macy in her place so Ethan would keep giving us money!"
"Sydney, shut up!" Beverly yelled, but it was too late. Christopher had already tapped his jacket pocket, where a small digital recorder was blinking red.
"Thank you for that admission, Sydney," Christopher said, closing his briefcase. "It will be very useful in the upcoming deposition. You both have a choice. You can sign these voluntary surrender documents today, turn over the keys to all properties, and Ethan will waive the criminal fraud charges. You will still be broke, but you won't be in orange jumpsuits."
Beverly stared at the pen on the table. It looked heavier than an iron bar.
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"And if we don't sign?" she whispered.
"Then the police will be here in twenty minutes with an arrest warrant for grand larceny and financial fraud," Christopher replied smoothly. "Ethan wanted me to give you his regards. He said to remind you that women have been going to prison for thousands of years without turning it into a medical emergency."
