Chapter 2 - The Empty Penthouse
Dominic’s hands trembled as he walked back inside Le Cirque Noir.
Victoria was dabbing her lips with a cloth napkin, looking up impatiently. “What took you so long, Dominic? The waiter brought the dessert menu ten minutes ago.”
“We have to go,” Dominic muttered, his voice hoarse.
Richard frowned. “Go? I haven't ordered my cognac yet.”
“We have to leave. Now,” Dominic repeated, grabbing his wallet from his pocket. He pulled out his corporate Black Card and handed it to the waiter who was hovering nearby. “Put everything on this.”
Two minutes later, the waiter returned, his face neutral but his posture stiff.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the waiter said softly. “This card was declined.”
Victoria gasped. “Declined? Don't be ridiculous! My son is a senior partner at a private equity firm!”
“Try it again,” Dominic demanded, sweat breaking out across his forehead. He handed over three other credit cards—two personal, one business.
Each one came back declined.
The table went dead silent.
Dominic was forced to scrape together four hundred dollars in emergency cash from his father’s wallet and his sister’s purse to cover the lunch bill, enduring the condescending glares of the restaurant staff as they hurried out to the street.
Without the SUV, they were forced to wait twenty minutes for a yellow cab.
The ride back to the luxury high-rise apartment building on Upper East Side was miserable. Victoria complained constantly about the heat, while Richard repeatedly demanded to know why Dominic’s corporate accounts were locked.
“It’s a glitch,” Dominic insisted, staring blindly out the taxi window, though a cold knot of dread was tightening in his chest. “Audrey must have filed some stupid paperwork by mistake because she’s emotional after the baby. I’ll handle it the second we get upstairs.”
The taxi pulled up to the glass canopy of The Sovereign Towers, a fifty-story luxury building where Dominic had spent the last three years showing off his wealth to colleagues.
The head doorman, Arthur, who usually greeted Dominic with a warm smile and a bow, stood rigid behind the brass desk.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Vance,” Arthur said, his tone unusually formal.
“Arthur, get someone to take my family’s bags up to the penthouse,” Dominic ordered, rushing toward the elevator bank.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” Arthur replied flatly.
Dominic stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly. “What did you say?”
Arthur reached under the counter and pulled out two large, sealed clear plastic bags containing Dominic’s corporate laptop, expensive watches, and three suits he had left in the SUV.
“As of twelve-thirty today, the lease agreement for Penthouse B was terminated by the primary leaseholder, Miss Audrey Brooks,” Arthur explained, reading from an official notice pinned to his clipboard. “The digital keycards for your family have been deactivated. All personal effects remaining inside the unit are currently being inventoried by a court-appointed receiver.”
Victoria shrieked, clutching her designer purse against her chest. “Terminated? This is our home! Dominic pays twelve thousand dollars a month for that penthouse!”
“Correction, ma’am,” Arthur said, adjusting his cap. “Miss Brooks’s family trust has paid the entire three-year lease upfront in cash since twenty-twenty-two. Mr. Vance’s name is listed solely as an authorized occupant—an authorization that was formally revoked three hours ago.”
Dominic felt as if the lobby floor were tilting beneath his feet.
Every lie he had carefully constructed over four years of marriage was collapsing around him like a house of cards.
He had told his parents, his friends, and his investors that he owned the penthouse. He had told them he bought the SUV. He had let them believe that Audrey was just a quiet, plain woman from upstate New York whose father lived on a modest government pension.
“Where is she?” Dominic demanded, his voice cracking. “Where is Audrey?”
Arthur looked at Dominic with an expression that mixed pity with profound disgust.
“Miss Brooks left an hour ago in a secure motorcade, sir,” Arthur said quietly. “She took the baby.”
Dominic pulled out his phone, slamming his finger against Audrey’s contact entry.
It rang once.
“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Dominic dropped his arm, staring blankly at the polished marble floor of the lobby.
Beside him, his mother was hyperventilating, his sister was frantically checking her phone, and his father was staring at him as if he were a complete stranger.
“Dominic,” Richard said, his voice trembling with a sudden, horrifying realization. “What did you do to her today?”
Dominic didn't answer.
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He couldn't.
All he could see in his mind was Audrey standing beneath the hospital awning in her thin hospital gown, holding a five-day-old baby, clutching twelve dollars in her hand while he drove away laughing with his mother.
