Chapter 3 - THE FALLOUT OF PRIDE
Taylor sat in the back of a black SUV,
the driver moving silently through the streets of Richmond.
Lisa was finally asleep,
her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
Taylor’s phone buzzed incessantly,
a stream of notifications from the T.S. Holding Group.
The board members were confused,
the lawyers were ready,
and the accountants were poised.
Within thirty minutes of her leaving the mansion,
the wheels of justice began to grind.
Spencer was currently in the bedroom with Kaylie,
likely celebrating his "victory" with more wine.
He didn't know that his corporate credit cards were being declined at that very moment.
He didn't know that the mansion's mortgage,
which was held by a subsidiary of Taylor’s company,
was being flagged for immediate foreclosure.
The "nothing" he thought she came from was actually a global conglomerate.
Taylor looked out the window,
watching the city lights flicker by.
She remembered the night he proposed,
under a sky full of stars.
She had wanted to believe in the fairy tale,
the idea of a partner who loved her for her soul.
But Spencer had only ever loved the reflection of himself in her eyes.
He saw her as a support system,
not a person.
He saw her as a vessel for his legacy,
not the creator of it.
The black SUV pulled up to a sleek,
modern apartment building in the city center.
This was a property he didn't know about,
a sanctuary she had kept for herself.
The staff greeted her with bowed heads,
whisking her bags away with practiced efficiency.
A nurse was waiting in the penthouse,
ready to take over the care of the baby.
Taylor finally allowed herself to sit down,
letting out a long,
shuddering breath.
The pain in her abdomen was a dull roar,
but the fire in her mind was brighter.
Her lead counsel,
Marcus Thorne,
stepped into the room.
Everything is moving according to plan,
Taylor,
Marcus said,
his voice calm and steady.
The car has been remotely disabled,
and the repossession team is on its way to the mansion.
Spencer’s personal accounts have been frozen due to "suspicious activity,"
Marcus added,
a ghost of a smile on his face.
And his mother?
Taylor asked,
leaning back into the silk cushions.
Martha’s "allowance" has been terminated,
Marcus replied.
The guest suite she’s so fond of is technically part of the corporate housing program.
We’ve issued an eviction notice for all occupants of the main estate,
effective in forty-eight hours.
Taylor nodded,
feeling the weight of the crown she had worn in secret.
He called me a "distraction,"
she whispered,
looking at her sleeping daughter.
He told me I should be grateful to live in his house,
she continued,
her voice hardening.
Marcus looked at the documents on the table,
the deeds,
the titles,
the ironclad contracts.
He has no idea that he was just an employee,
Marcus noted.
An employee who failed his performance review quite spectacularly.
Taylor closed her eyes,
picturing Spencer’s face when the power went out.
She pictured Martha trying to find a hotel that would accept a declined card.
She pictured Kaylie realizing that the man she "stole" was actually a pauper.
The mercy she once felt for them had been surgically removed at the hospital.
They wanted a scene?
she thought,
her fingers tracing the edge of a legal brief.
I’ll give them a production they’ll never forget.
Lisa stirred in the nurse’s arms,
letting out a soft cry.
It’s okay,
little one,
Taylor whispered,
looking toward the future.
You’re never going to have to be grateful for scraps.
You’re the heir to an empire,
and your mother is the one who built it.
The night was long,
May you like
but the dawn was coming,
and it was bringing a reckoning.
