Chapter 11 - The Vance Retaliation
Three peaceful months had passed since that night in the kitchen.
Three months of waking up to Valerie’s soft breathing and the sound of Lucy watching morning cartoons in the living room.
It was the longest stretch of uninterrupted happiness I had ever experienced in my thirty years of life.
I had almost convinced myself that the past was truly buried.
I was wrong.
It started on a Tuesday morning, right after I dropped Lucy off at her new preschool in Pasadena.
My burner phone—the one I kept exclusively for emergencies—buzzed in my jacket pocket.
I pulled it out, staring at the screen.
It was Marcus, my lawyer.
"Carter, we have a problem," Marcus said, and the grim tone of his voice made my stomach drop instantly.
"What is it?" I asked, pulling my car over to the side of the tree-lined street.
"Is it my father?"
"No," Marcus sighed heavily.
"It’s not Richard."
"It’s Arthur Vance."
Chloe’s father.
The billionaire real estate mogul whose daughter I had abandoned at the boarding gate.
"I have the Cayman files, Marcus," I reminded him, gripping the steering wheel tight.
"My father wouldn't let Vance touch me, because if I go down, the files go public and my father goes to prison."
"Your father isn't the one orchestrating this, Carter," Marcus explained, his voice tight with anxiety.
"Arthur Vance doesn't care about the Cayman files because his name isn't on them."
"He only cares that you humiliated his daughter on national television."
"What is he doing, Marcus?"
"He just bought out the management company that owns the building where Valerie works."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Valerie had recently been promoted to general manager of the downtown bakery she loved so much.
It was her pride and joy, a symbol of her independence.
"Ten minutes ago, the new management issued a termination of lease to the bakery owner," Marcus said quietly.
"They are shutting it down, Carter."
"Unless the owner fires Valerie immediately."
A cold, venomous anger spread through my veins.
Arthur Vance wasn't coming after me.
He knew I was used to corporate warfare.
He was going after the woman I loved, trying to strip away her security piece by piece.
"Chloe is behind this," I muttered, seeing her vindictive fingerprints all over the strategy.
"They want to starve you out," Marcus warned.
"They want Valerie to realize that being with you is a liability."
"They want her to leave you."
I hung up the phone and stared out the windshield at the idyllic suburban street.
They thought Valerie was weak.
They thought she was just a waitress they could intimidate and discard.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
But I knew I had to get to the bakery before the owner broke the news to her.
I threw the car into drive and sped toward downtown Los Angeles.
May you like
The war wasn't over.
It had just changed battlefields.
