Chapter 11 - THE MANHATTAN STREETS
Outside the towering glass skyscraper in downtown Manhattan, the autumn rain began to fall in heavy, driving sheets.
Julian Sterling stood shivering on the wet concrete sidewalk, his expensive burgundy suit soaked and ruined by the downpour.
Celeste sat on a damp concrete bench nearby, weeping uncontrollably as her designer handbag lay discarded in a puddle.
"This is all your fault! You said Victoria was weak and easy to manipulate!" Celeste screamed over the roar of passing traffic yellow cabs.
"Shut up, Celeste! If you hadn't demanded that penthouse suite in Tribeca, none of this would have happened!" Julian snarled back viciously.
A pair of yellow New York City taxis drove past them without slowing down, splashing dirty rainwater across Julian's polished Italian leather shoes.
His phone buzzed one last time before dying completely, the final battery percentage fading into a black screen.
He was officially locked out of his luxury apartment, his sports cars were repossessed by the bank, and his reputation was incinerated.
Passersby hurried past under black umbrellas, casting disgusted glances at the fallen billionaire whining on the street corner.
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Julian clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, realizing that New York high society had already erased him.
There was no rescue coming, no secret fund waiting, and no way back into the fortress he had tried to steal.
