Chapter 11
Inside a dimly lit downtown diner three miles away, Richard sat in a sticky vinyl booth staring into a cup of lukewarm black coffee. Chloe was nowhere to be found, having blocked his number the moment their taxi crossed into Brooklyn.
His credit cards had all been declined at the diner register, forcing him to pay for his cheap meal with the loose change from his trouser pockets. The humiliation stung worse than any physical blow could ever manage.
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He pulled out his smartphone, scrolling through news alerts about the sudden acquisition of the Sterling penthouse by an anonymous multi-million-dollar trust. The media was already dubbing it the corporate divorce of the decade.
A television mounted on the diner wall flashed live footage of Rebecca stepping out of a federal courthouse looking radiant and victorious. Richard slammed his fist onto the laminate table in helpless rage.
