Chapter 8
Back in Manhattan, Elena’s high-rise penthouse office offered a panoramic view of the glittering evening skyline coming alive against the twilight. She stood by the glass wall, holding a crystal glass of sparkling water while reviewing the latest federal asset liquidation reports.
Arthur Kensington walked in, placing a thick leather-bound dossier onto the sleek marble conference table. "The federal marshals have officially seized the Hamptons estate and frozen all personal liquidity belonging to Eleanor and Richard," Arthur reported.
Elena nodded slowly, her expression remaining calm, cool, and detached from any sense of personal triumph. "And what about Julian? Has he made any attempt to contact our legal team or file for a formal annulment?" she asked.
"Julian took a commuter train back into the city this afternoon and is currently crashing on a friend's couch in Queens," Arthur answered. Elena set her glass down on the table, walking over to examine a photograph of her grandfather who founded Kensington Corp decades ago.
"He chose his mother's cruelty over his own wife, Dad, and now he gets to experience what real hardship looks like," Elena said quietly. "Do you feel any lingering regret for how swiftly and completely we dismantled their entire empire?" Arthur asked gently.
Elena turned around, her dark eyes flashing with the cold, unyielding resolve that had terrified Eleanor in the ballroom. "Regret? Dad, the moment Eleanor shoved me against that mirror, she signed the death warrant for her family's corporate existence," Elena stated firmly.
"And she did it all under the watchful eye of the American flag and dozens of high-society witnesses who documented every second," she added. The intercom on the desk chimed softly, interrupting their conversation as the executive assistant's voice came through.
May you like
"Miss Kensington, there's a gentleman downstairs in the lobby insisting on speaking with you; he claims it's a matter of absolute urgency." Elena raised an eyebrow, wondering who could possibly be brave or foolish enough to seek her out at this hour.
"Who is it?" Elena asked. "It's Julian Sterling, ma'am, and he looks like he's at the end of his rope."
