Chapter 6 - The Empty Penthouse
By midnight, the heavy grand doors of the penthouse closed, leaving behind an absolute, blissful silence.
Julian and Eleanor had been escorted down to the rain-slicked pavement of Greenwich Street carrying black garbage bags of clothes.
They had no hotel reservations, no accessible cash, and no credit cards that weren't tied to accounts I had frozen.
I walked through the cavernous five-thousand-square-foot space, feeling the cool night air blowing in from the terrace.
For two years, I had played the quiet, submissive stay-at-home wife to appease Julian's fragile ego.
I had hidden my true wealth, my corporate holdings, and my family legacy just to make him feel important.
I walked over to the dining table, picked up the four bowls of cold, untouched ramen, and dumped them into the trash.
I touched my belly, feeling a soft, delicate kick from my baby girl moving inside me.
"It's just you and me now, little one," I whispered into the quiet night, looking out at the Hudson River.
My phone chimed on the counter, displaying an incoming text message from my head corporate council, Victoria Vance.
The paperwork for freezing Julian's executive salary at his investment firm is complete. He has nowhere to run.
May you like
I smiled softly, setting the phone down, knowing that the battle was far from over.
When the sun rose tomorrow, Julian Vance was going to find out what happens when you cross a true legacy.
