Chapter 8 - The Matriarch’s Fury
Grace picked up the phone calmly, disengaging the speaker and holding the device to her ear.
“Good morning to you as well, Victoria,” Grace replied without raising her voice an octave.
“I see the wire services have updated their executive governance monitors.”
“Don’t you use that cold corporate tone with me, young lady!” Victoria snapped, her voice shaking with rage.
“Ethan made a mistake! All men in his tax bracket have little distractions!”
“You are seven months pregnant with his heir, and you humiliate him in public?”
“You strip him of his company? You hand his father’s legacy to Declan Pierce?”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
Grace leaned back in her chair, gazing out at the sunrise.
The sheer hypocrisy in Victoria’s voice did not surprise her in the least.
For years, Victoria had reminded Grace at every family holiday that the Calloways were old New England blood.
Victoria had constantly implied that the Sterling family was merely ‘new money’ built on freight trucks and warehouse docks.
Whenever Ethan spent weekends away from home, Victoria had told Grace that a successful wife learns to look the other way.
“Victoria, let us clarify a few factual errors in your statement,” Grace said, her voice sharp as a surgical blade.
“First, Calloway Industries was on the brink of Chapter Eleven bankruptcy when Ethan married me five years ago.”
“It was my grandfather’s sixty-million-dollar cash injection that kept your family from selling your Chestnut Hill estate at auction.”
On the other end of the line, Victoria gasped in outraged silence.
“Second,” Grace continued without pausing, “Ethan did not make a ‘little mistake.’”
“He embezzled three point eight million dollars from the corporate accounts to purchase luxury real estate and jewelry for his mistress.”
“And third, your son did not abandon me for a business conference.”
“He abandoned his pregnant wife while she was hospitalized with pre-term contractions to vacation on a private island.”
“Grace, you are exaggerating!” Victoria stammered, her voice losing a fraction of its arrogance.
“Ethan loves you! He was preparing for the pressures of fatherhood!”
“You could have handled this behind closed doors!”
“You could have settled this with a quiet postnuptial agreement instead of destroying our family’s reputation!”
“Your family’s reputation was destroyed the moment your son treated marriage vows like disposable paper,” Grace replied coldly.
“And as of seven o’clock this morning, the Calloway name has been officially removed from the corporate masthead.”
“The firm is now Sterling Logistics International.”
“You can’t do that!” Victoria shrieked.
“We own thirty-six percent of that company!”
“You owned thirty-six percent, Victoria,” Grace corrected with lethal precision.
“Your son signed the voluntary surrender agreement at eleven-forty last night in the presence of four certified notaries.”
“His personal shares were repurchased at book value by Pierce Global Holdings.”
“The funds have already been wired into an escrow account.”
“Minus the three point eight million dollars he owes back to the corporate treasury for his illicit expenditures.”
A dead, suffocating silence fell across the telephone line.
Victoria Calloway sounded as if she were gasping for air in an airtight vault.
“You... you took everything from him?” Victoria whispered, horror finally replacing her fury.
“Ethan was the pride of our family... he was supposed to run for state senate next year!”
“Then you should advise your son to look for alternative career opportunities,” Grace said.
“Because if he ever sets foot on Sterling property again, the security team has standing orders to have him arrested for criminal trespassing.”
“And Victoria?” Grace added, her voice dropping into a quiet, chilling whisper.
“If you ever send another reporter to my prenatal clinic or dare to call my private physician again,”
“I will release the full unredacted forensic audit to every major news outlet in Massachusetts.”
“Including the receipts showing Ethan used corporate funds to pay your country club membership fees for the last three years.”
Victoria gasped, dropping her phone on the floor in Chestnut Hill.
The call abruptly disconnected with a sharp click.
Grace lowered the phone and set it back on the glass table.
Across from her, Declan Pierce was looking at her with quiet, unmasked approval.
“You handled that far more gracefully than she deserved,” Declan commented softly.
“She spent six years trying to convince me that I was lucky to have her son,” Grace said, taking another sip of her tea.
“She needed to be reminded whose money paid for her diamonds.”
Declan stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling balcony door.
He looked down toward the private resort marina below.
“Speaking of Ethan,” Declan said, motioning toward the glass.
Grace stood up and walked over to stand beside him.
On the marina dock four floors below, Ethan Calloway stood beside three heavy designer suitcases.
Beside him, Vanessa Reed was frantically screaming at a private water taxi captain.
The captain was shaking his head, pointing toward the resort security guards who stood watchfully fifty feet away.
“It appears the private charter company declined to accept his suspended American Express card,” Declan remarked, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“The public ferry to the mainland departs at nine-fifteen,” Grace noted calmly.
May you like
“The fare is forty-two dollars per passenger.”
“I trust they have enough loose cash between them to afford the tickets.”
