Chapter 9 - The Unraveling of Vanessa Vance
While Richard was being humiliated in the lobby of Park Avenue, Vanessa Vance was experiencing her own public execution in the digital world.
At 10:00 AM, Vanessa walked into a Starbucks on Central Avenue in White Plains, using the shop’s free Wi-Fi to reconnect her laptop to the internet.
The moment her connection went live, her screen erupted in an avalanche of notifications.
Her email inbox showed 342 unread messages.
Her Instagram direct messages were jammed with thousands of requests.
Her phone chimed incessantly, freezing her browser every few seconds under the sheer weight of incoming traffic.
Vanessa smiled, a flash of her usual arrogance returning to her eyes.
“I knew it,” she whispered to herself, taking a sip of tap water she had asked the barista for.
“The drama went viral.
The brands are reaching out to get my side of the story.
They’re going to offer me exclusive tell-all deals.”
She clicked open her primary email inbox.
The first email was not an offer for an interview.
It was from the Senior Director of Influencer Partnerships at LuxeVogue Cosmetics, a high-end beauty brand that paid Vanessa eight thousand dollars every month as an ambassador.
SUBJECT: IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF AMBASSADOR CONTRACT & DEMAND FOR REPAYMENT
Dear Ms. Vance,
In light of recent viral video footage circulating across TikTok, Instagram, and X depicting you physically assaulting a heavily pregnant woman with ice water at a private residence, followed by your disorderly conduct and police ejection at John F. Kennedy International Airport, LuxeVogue Cosmetics is exercising its rights under Section 8.2 (Moral Turpitude & Brand Disrepute Clause) of our Ambassador Agreement.
Your contract is terminated effective immediately.
Furthermore, pursuant to Section 8.4, you are required to immediately remit the sum of $24,000, representing the quarterly retainer advanced to you on September 1st.
Failure to wire these funds within seven business days will result in immediate legal action by our corporate counsel.
Remove all mentions of our brand from your social media bios within two hours.
Vanessa’s breath hitched in her throat.
“No... no, no, no,” she gasped, her hands shaking violently as she clicked the next email.
It was from her fashion sponsor, an Italian luxury shoe label:
Contract Severed: Breach of Conduct Standards.
The next one was from a wellness tea company:
Notice of Partnership Termination.
Every single corporate sponsor—every single company that had funded her delusion of being a wealthy, self-made lifestyle icon—had dropped her within forty-eight hours.
Her eyes darted to TikTok.
The original video taken by the college students at JFK had reached 4.8 million views.
The comments were a brutal, unforgiving slaughterhouse:
— “Isn't this the girl who constantly posts about 'quiet luxury' while living off her brother’s corporate card? LOL!”
— “Look at her screaming at Port Authority cops! The entitlement is sickening.”
— “Wait, the brother’s wife is a pediatric nurse who works thirty-six-hour shifts, and this useless leech threw ice water at her pregnant belly?! Put her in jail!”
— “Her brother Arthur Vance is the CEO of Vance Logistics. Word on the street is he canceled their entire $150k vacation while they were on the way to the airport. LEGEND.”
— “Cancel Vanessa Vance. Boycott every brand that pays this monster.”
Vanessa opened her Instagram profile.
Her follower count was in freefall.
She had dropped from 210,000 followers to 142,000 in two days, and every single comment section on her recent photos was flooded with thousands of clown emojis, water glass emojis, and demands for her arrest.
At that exact moment, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown New York landline.
She answered frantically, thinking it might be a public relations firm wanting to represent her.
“Hello?!
This is Vanessa!”
“Miss Vance, this is Bradley Cooper from Midtown Property Management,” a curt, professional voice announced.
“I am calling regarding Unit 14B at the Franklin Street Lofts in Tribeca.”
“Yes!
Bradley, thank God!” Vanessa rushed, leaning into the receiver.
“Listen, there has been an administrative error with Vance Logistics!
My brother had a temporary breakdown, but I am the rightful resident of that apartment!
Do not listen to any paperwork sent by his lawyers!”
“Miss Vance, Vance Logistics LLC surrendered the master lease this morning at 9:00 AM,” Bradley replied, his tone as cold as stone.
“They paid the complete early termination fee of thirty-six thousand dollars in certified funds.
The lease is officially dissolved.
As an unauthorized secondary occupant, you have until Friday at 5:00 PM to remove your belongings from the premises.”
“Friday?!” Vanessa screamed, drawing stares from every customer in the coffee shop.
“That's four days!
I have forty pairs of designer shoes!
I have custom Italian wardrobes!
I cannot move in four days!”
“If your belongings are not removed by 5:00 PM on Friday, building maintenance will clear the unit and place all items in a commercial storage locker in Queens at your personal expense,” Bradley said without an ounce of emotion.
“The electronic key fob for the main lobby has already been deactivated.
You will need to sign in with freight elevator security to access the floor.
Have a good day, Miss Vance.”
The line went dead.
Vanessa sat frozen in the middle of the crowded Starbucks.
Her career was dead.
Her reputation was shredded.
Her income had vanished.
Her luxury loft in Tribeca was gone.
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And in her designer handbag, sitting between a tube of expensive lipstick and a cracked compact mirror, was a bank balance of exactly forty-two dollars and sixteen cents.
She buried her face in her manicured hands and began to scream.
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