Chapter 3 - The False Throne
While I healed in the fortress of my family’s estate, surrounded by love and exceptional care, Adrian and Vanessa were busy building a kingdom on quicksand.
My father’s private investigators documented every move they made. It was sickeningly fascinating to watch them hang themselves with their own hubris.
Adrian, believing he had successfully intimidated his "naive" wife into submission, went on a spending spree. He bought a new Porsche. He booked a first-class trip to the Maldives for Vanessa.
Vanessa, meanwhile, was playing the lady of the manor.
She posted a relentless stream of photos on Instagram. #NewHome #Blessed #Upgrades. She showed off my kitchen, my living room, and the master bedroom where I had slept for six years.
She even posted a video of contractors ripping out my custom-built nursery to turn it into a walk-in closet for her designer bags.
“Look at this,” my father said on a Tuesday evening, sliding a financial report across the dinner table.
I picked it up, rocking my son, Leo, in my arms. “He took out a loan?”
“A massive one,” my father confirmed, sipping his red wine. “Adrian’s tech company has been bleeding money for months. He needed an injection of capital to keep his investors from panicking.”
“What did he use for collateral?” I asked, though I already suspected the answer.
“The house,” my mother chimed in, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “He used the forged deed to secure a seven-million-dollar commercial loan from Vanguard Bank.”
I gasped softly. “He lied to a federally backed institution.”
“Bank fraud, on top of forgery, on top of wire fraud,” my mother listed, checking them off on her manicured fingers. “The bank didn't do their due diligence because Adrian has a long-standing relationship with their branch manager. A manager who is about to be fired.”
“When do we strike?” I asked, feeling a fierce, protective instinct flare up as I looked down at my sleeping son.
My mother checked her calendar. “Adrian is hosting his annual shareholder gala this Friday night. He plans to announce his new funding and introduce Vanessa as his fiancée.”
“Fiancée?” I raised an eyebrow. “We aren't even divorced.”
“Details,” my father scoffed. “To men like Adrian, reality is whatever they say it is.”
“Then let’s reintroduce him to the real world,” I said.
I handed Leo to the nanny and walked over to the mirror. The woman looking back at me was no longer the exhausted, bleeding victim from the hospital.
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My eyes were clear. My posture was straight. I was Serena Sterling again.
“Call my old tailor,” I told my mother. “I need a suit for Friday. A red one.”
