Chapter 7 - The Exodus and the Ashes
We walked out of the Vance estate through the shattered front doors, leaving Arthur weeping over his legal documents, Wendy pale and silent by the fireplace, and Isaac struggling to stand up from the floorboards.
The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the clean scent of rain.
Outside, the five black SUVs sat idling, their exhaust rising into the dark sky. Ben, the young waiter who had cut my ropes, was standing near the fountain, holding his coat and looking uncertainly at the heavy security presence.
I stopped near the steps. "Noah, wait."
I walked over to Ben.
"Ma'am?" Ben said, looking nervous.
"Thank you, Ben," I said, taking his hand. "You were the only person in that room with a conscience tonight."
Caleb stepped up beside me and handed Ben a gold business card. "Call that number tomorrow morning at nine. You'll have a management job at my logistics terminal in Brooklyn. Starting salary is triple what the Vances were paying you."
Ben looked at the card, then at Caleb, his eyes wide. "Thank you, sir. Thank you, ma'am."
"Get home safely, Ben," I said.
I turned back to my brothers.
Noah opened the door to the lead SUV, helping me into the plush leather interior of the rear cabin. The heater was running, warming my frozen hands.
As the five vehicles pulled out of the driveway, leaving the Vance estate behind us, I looked through the rear window. The grand mansion, with its brilliant chandeliers and imposing iron gates, looked small, dark, and utterly insignificant against the backdrop of the stormy sky.
"How are your wrists, Flora?" Leo asked from the front passenger seat, turning around to pass me a small first-aid kit and a bottle of water.
"They hurt," I admitted, taking the antiseptic wipes and cleaning the torn skin around my joints. "But I'll live."
"He's never going to touch you again," Noah said from beside me, his voice steady and absolute. "None of them will."
I looked at my eldest brother. "How long have you known about Arthur Vance’s fraud?"
Noah leaned back against the headrest, looking out at the passing trees along the highway. "Six months. We knew Isaac was a weak man, Flora. We knew his family was built on stolen money. We kept quiet because you asked us to leave you out of the family business."
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"I thought I could have a normal life," I whispered, staring down at my hands.
"You can have whatever life you want," Marcus said from the front seat. "But you are a Sterling, Flora. You don't have to hide who you are to be safe."
