Chapter 9 - The Sterling Crumble
The penthouse suite of the Sterling residence on Park Avenue was in complete disarray. Luggage cases lay open across the Italian marble floor, filled with designer dresses, vintage furs, and diamond jewelry. Victoria Sterling was frantically packing, shouting at her personal assistant on speakerphone while trying to keep her hands from shaking.
"I don't care what the agency said!" Victoria screamed into the device. "Book me a first-class ticket to Milan! Put it on the company corporate card!"
"Miss Sterling," her assistant's panicked voice answered, "the corporate card was declined ten minutes ago. The bank said the entire Sterling Enterprises account has been frozen under a court injunction!"
Victoria threw the phone against the sofa in rage. "Useless! All of them!"
The front door of the penthouse opened with a violent crash. Richard stumbled into the foyer, his tie torn loose, his hair disheveled, looking completely unhinged.
"Victoria!" he yelled, rushing toward her.
Victoria recoiled, backing away behind a stack of Louis Vuitton luggage. "Richard? What are you doing here? How did you get past the doorman?!"
"He let me up because he thought I was still your fiancé!" Richard gasped, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his chin. "Victoria, you have to help me. You have to give me fourteen million dollars."
Victoria stared at him as if he had spoken in an alien tongue. Then, she let out a hysterical, mocking laugh. "Fourteen million dollars? Are you insane?! I don't have fourteen hundred dollars right now! My father was just forced off the board of Vance Holdings! Our family accounts are frozen!"
Richard seized her by the upper arms, his grip bruising. "Don't lie to me! Your family is old money! You told me you had trusts in Switzerland! You told me you could finance my expansion!"
"I lied, you idiot!" Victoria shrieked, struggling against his grip. "We were drowning in debt! My father needed your father's logistics network to secure a European bailout! We used each other! You dumped that orphan girl because you thought I was rich, and I took you because I thought you were solvent!"
Richard froze. The truth struck him like a physical blow to the chest, knocking the remaining breath from his body. "You... you didn't have money?"
"None of us have money!" Victoria yelled, ripping herself free from his grasp. "Genevieve was the only one in that room with real wealth! She owned the debt on my father's firm! She owned the debt on your father's firm! And we both treated her like dirt on our shoes!"
The doorbell rang.
Both of them jumped, terror flashing in their eyes.
Through the frosted glass panel beside the door, the silhouette of two men was clearly visible. Richard crept toward the entryway, his heart hammering in his ears, and peered through the security viewer.
Standing in the hallway were two men in dark suits. One of them held an official manila folder bearing the seal of the New York County Sheriff's Department.
"Mr. Richard Cole?" the deputy's voice echoed through the heavy wood. "Open the door. We have an active bench warrant for your arrest regarding felony wire fraud and grand larceny."
Richard backed away from the door, his hands trembling violently. "No... no, no, no. It's only two o'clock! She said five o'clock!"
Victoria looked at him, horror washing over her face. "Richard... what did you do?"
"She lied," Richard whispered, his voice breaking into a dry sob as he collapsed against the wall. "She gave me a deadline she never intended to keep. She wanted me to run. She wanted me cornered."
"Open the door immediately, or we will breach!" the deputy yelled, followed by the heavy thud of a battering ram striking the frame.
Victoria began to scream, scrambling toward the master bedroom to lock herself in. Richard didn't move. He sat on the floor among Victoria's scattered designer shoes and open suitcases, staring at the front door as the wood began to splinter under the impact.
He remembered Genevieve lying on the chapel floor, her eyes looking up at him, pleading for basic decency. He remembered telling her she wasn't built for his family.
The heavy door burst open, and three armed deputies swarmed into the foyer, weapons drawn.
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"Richard Cole, hands behind your head! Down on your knees, now!"
As the cold steel of the handcuffs locked around his wrists for the second time that day, Richard pressed his face into the cold marble floor. It felt just like the stone in the chapel. But this time, no one was coming to save him.
