Chapter 8 - Total Ruin and New Beginnings
Three months later.
The fall of the Hawthorne family was swift and absolute. Without my money to pay their high-priced defense attorneys, Brandon and Margaret were forced to rely on public defenders. The evidence was so overwhelming that they didn't even make it to a trial.
Brandon accepted a plea deal: fifteen years in federal prison for wire fraud and identity theft. Margaret, unable to handle the reality of her situation, tried to flee the country using a fake passport, which only added to her charges. She was sentenced to eight years in a minimum-security facility.
The Hawthorne estate, heavily mortgaged and tied to the stolen funds, was seized by the federal government and auctioned off. Their prestigious name became a cautionary tale in high society circles.
As for me, my life took a completely different trajectory.
Sterling Point Capital recovered every single cent of the twelve million dollars. Because of my handling of the crisis, Arthur Vance promoted me to Senior Partner. I now had my own corner office with a view of Central Park, and my name was etched on the glass door.
I also moved out of the penthouse. It held too many dark memories of Brandon and the life I used to live. I bought a beautiful, historic brownstone in Brooklyn. It had high ceilings, a massive garden, and most importantly, an advanced, impenetrable security system.
It was a Sunday morning. I was standing in my new kitchen, wearing comfortable sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, brewing espresso. The doorbell didn't ring. There was no sound of a drill tearing into a deadbolt. Instead, I heard the soft click of a key turning in the lock.
Julian walked in, carrying two paper bags from my favorite bakery down the street.
"I got the almond croissants," he announced, setting the bags on the marble counter. "And I brought the Sunday paper, though I doubt there's anything as exciting as a billionaire wire-fraud scandal in it."
I smiled, walking over and wrapping my arms around his waist. After the chaos of the gala, Julian and I had stayed close. What started as late-night texts about court proceedings turned into dinners, which turned into weekends spent together. He was brilliant, fiercely protective, and unlike Brandon, he saw me as an equal.
"I've had enough excitement to last a lifetime," I said, leaning up to kiss him.
"Are you sure?" Julian teased, opening the bakery box. "Because Grace called me this morning. She said the final paperwork for the Hawthorne estate auction is complete. The foundation's assets have been liquidated."
"And?" I asked, taking a bite of a croissant.
"And, as the primary victim of the fraud, the court awarded you the remaining balance of the Hawthorne family trust as restitution for the money they spent over the last five years."
I paused. "How much?"
"About two million dollars," Julian said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "What are you going to do with it?"
I looked out the window into my quiet, sunlit garden. I thought about Margaret, sitting in a prison cell, wearing a standard-issue uniform instead of cashmere. I thought about Brandon, trapped in a cage, no longer able to manipulate his way through life. They had tried to take my money, my career, and my sanity. But they had failed.
"I think," I said, a slow smile spreading across my face, "I'm going to set up a scholarship fund for young women pursuing degrees in finance. We'll call it the Olivia Hayes Foundation."
Julian laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled my kitchen. "Margaret Hawthorne is going to lose her mind when she reads about that."
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"Let her," I said, taking my coffee cup and leaning against the counter.
The past was finally dead and buried. My future, however, was entirely mine to write.
