Chapter 5 - The Fall of Selina Vance
While I recovered in the quiet sanctuary of my family’s estate in the hills, cocooned by Arthur’s watchful eye and the heavy private security team I had inherited from my grandfather’s estate, Flynn’s carefully constructed world was burning to ash.
Two weeks after Leo’s birth, the fallout reached its climax in the downtown design district.
Selina Vance—formerly the untouchable, impeccably dressed lead interior design consultant of Whitaker & Associates—found herself standing outside the locked glass doors of her plush downtown loft, staring at a bright orange eviction notice pasted directly across the brass door handle.
NOTICE OF LEASE TERMINATION AND ASSET SEIZURE. BY ORDER OF THE FEDERAL DISTRICT COURT.
Selina dropped her designer handbag into the wet pavement, her face twisting in sheer panic as a half-dozen reporters and tabloid photographers suddenly swarmed around her from behind the corner, flashing blinding camera lights in her face.
"Ms. Vance! Ms. Vance! Is it true that Flynn Whitaker funded your luxury apartment using embezzled trust funds?" shouted a reporter from the local daily paper, thrusting a microphone toward her mouth.
"Did you know Flynn planned to murder his wife so you two could inherit twelve million dollars?" another yelled.
Selina’s hands flew to her face, her carefully applied makeup smearing as she tried to shove past the wall of cameras. "No! That’s a lie! I didn't know anything! Leave me alone!"
"According to federal banking records released this morning," a third reporter called out relentlessly, "you received thirty separate wire transfers totaling over four hundred thousand dollars labeled as 'design consultancy fees'—none of which involved actual design work. How do you plead to charges of accessory to financial fraud?"
Selina didn't answer. She bolted down the sidewalk, tripping over her high heels in her haste, scrambling into a waiting taxi that sped away into the city traffic, leaving her high-society dreams shredded in the dust of her own greed.
Back in my study at the estate, I watched the live broadcast on my tablet while rocking baby Leo in my arms.
Arthur walked into the study, holding a cup of black coffee, and looked down at the tablet screen with a satisfied smirk. "Well, looks like Selina’s downtown interior design career just hit a bit of a structural snag. No load-bearing walls left to stand on."
"Greed always destroys itself, Arthur," I said quietly, kissing the top of Leo’s dark head. "You just have to step out of the way and let gravity do its job."
"What about Flynn?" Arthur asked, his expression turning serious. "His preliminary hearing is scheduled for next Tuesday at the federal courthouse downtown. His public defender is trying to cut a plea deal for twenty years by throwing Dr. Vance under the bus."
I looked up, my eyes hardening into steel. "Tell Rebecca I want to attend that hearing in person."
May you like
Arthur frowned, stepping closer. "Mabel, you don't need to put yourself through that. You have a two-week-old baby—"
"I am not going out of anger, Arthur," I interrupted calmly. "I am going because some chapters don't truly close until you look the monster in the eye and show him that his nightmares couldn't break you."
