Chapter 2 - The Mask of the Brochure Designer
For three years,
I had played the role of the quiet,
unassuming designer who worked in a small corner office.
I had met Ethan at a coffee shop,
and when he saw my sketchbooks,
he had assumed I was a struggling artist.
I let him believe it,
not because I wanted to deceive him,
but because I wanted to be loved for who I was,
not for the billions of dollars attached to the Devereux name.
My family,
the Devereuxs,
had been the "bankers to the billionaires" for generations,
operating through dozens of shells and holding companies to maintain a life of quiet,
untouchable power.
My parents had retired to a small house in the country,
preferring the grease of an old engine and the soil of a garden to the champagne of a boardroom.
They had agreed to play along,
wearing their modest clothes and enduring Olivia’s insults,
because they believed in my happiness.
They had sat through dinners where they were mocked for their "lack of culture,"
all while knowing they could buy and sell the Sterling family ten times over.
I had seen the way Olivia looked at me,
the way she whispered to her friends about my "pitiful" background.
I had seen the way Ethan had started to mimic her behavior,
believing that his wealth gave him the right to be careless with other people’s feelings.
I had given him a dozen chances to defend me,
a dozen moments to prove that he was the man I thought he was.
But every time,
he had chosen the path of least resistance,
the path of his mother’s approval.
The brochure designer was a test,
and the Sterlings had failed with flying colors.
As the lead lawyer from the Devereux Group,
Marcus,
approached with a briefcase in hand,
the wedding guests began to realize the gravity of the situation.
They were not witnessing a lover's spat,
they were witnessing a corporate hostile takeover in the middle of a flower arrangement.
Ethan stepped toward me,
his hands trembling.
"Clara,
you're the CEO of Devereux?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I looked at him with a pity that was worse than anger.
"Because if I had,"
"I would have never known that you were a coward who would watch my parents be humiliated for the sake of your inheritance."
I looked at Marcus and nodded.
"Begin the liquidation,"
May you like
I said.
"I want the Sterling accounts closed by sunset."
