Chapter 6 - THE MORNING AFTER: PAPARAZZI AND POWER PLAYS
The dawn light broke cold and unforgiving over the Greenwich coastline, casting long, sharp shadows across the minimalist concrete terraces of the Paterson estate.
Rachel woke up not with tears, but with a fierce, quiet resolve. She dressed in a structured navy maternity blazer and matching trousers, her hair pulled back into a sleek, elegant knot. She knew the storm was only beginning; what happened inside Le Charm Eternel last night was too juicy for Manhattan's high-society gossip columns to ignore. By sunrise, TMZ, Page Six, and Bloomberg Technology would have the full story.
Downstairs, the heavy oak front doors were already vibrating with the aggressive pounding of journalists and photographers staking out the perimeter. Flashbulbs strobed against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows like intermittent lightning bolts.
Zachary was nowhere to be seen in the west wing. When Rachel walked into the grand kitchen, she found him slumped over the marble island, staring blankly at his glowing smartphone screen while three different corporate lawyers talked simultaneously over speakerphone.
“...Patterson, if Arthur Vance calls an emergency board meeting for ten a.m. and we don’t secure an injunction, your voting trust will be frozen under the moral turpitude clause!” shouted one attorney from the phone speaker.
“...And Page Six is running an exclusive headline titled ‘The Billionaire’s Mistress Behind the Velvet Curtain.’ Stock futures are already down four percent in pre-market trading!” added another.
Zachary slammed his palm down on the marble counter, his face twisted in rage and exhaustion. “Shut up! All of you, just shut up and find a loophole! Threaten them with lawsuits! Sue the restaurant for breach of privacy!”
“You can’t sue the restaurant for catching you in your own lies, Zachary,” Rachel said smoothly, walking into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of warm lemon water.
Zachary snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot and desperate. “Rachel! Thank God. Listen to me—you need to help me fix this. Call Elizabeth, tell her to make a public statement that it was all a misunderstanding, that Alice was just a business associate visiting from London—!”
“A business associate in a crimson cocktail dress sitting in a private alcove?” Rachel interrupted, taking a calm sip of her water. “Are you listening to yourself, Zack? Your lies have an expiration date, and today is the day they all went sour.”
“Rachel, if the board strips my voting rights, I lose control of the company! Everything I built—our future, our child’s trust fund—it all vanishes!” Zachary pleaded, stepping toward her with hands trembling.
“Your future vanished the moment you decided your arrogance mattered more than your family,” Rachel replied coldly. She pulled a crisp, folded legal document from her blazer pocket and laid it squarely in the center of the marble island, right beside his phone.
Zachary looked down, his breath catching in his throat as he read the bold heading at the top of the page: PETITION FOR DIVIDE AND ESTABLISHMENT OF SOLE CUSTODY, ALIMONY, AND ASSET FREEZE.
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“What is this?” he whispered, horror dawning in his eyes.
“It’s the beginning of the end of you, Zachary,” Rachel said, turning toward the foyer. “My divorce lawyer is already filing it at the Westchester County Courthouse. Good luck with your board meeting. You’re going to need it.”
