Chapter 7 - The Unravelling of the Mercers
The signing of the divorce agreement was not the end of the collapse; it was merely the falling of the first domino.
Stripped of his liquid capital and burdened by the legal costs of covering up his internal embezzlement before Northline Development’s board noticed, Evan was forced to sell his executive stock options at a massive discount.
Two weeks after the settlement was finalized, the corporate reality in Paris came crashing down. Brooke Ellis, realizing that Evan’s multi-million-dollar fortune was largely an illusion constructed out of corporate debt and marital home equity, abruptly resigned from her position at Northline Development.
According to an old colleague of mine who still worked in corporate strategy, Brooke returned to Chicago, hired her own attorney, and immediately turned over all internal communications regarding the Nice apartment to human resources to protect herself from corporate liability, claiming Evan had "pressured" her into the financial arrangement.
Evan was quietly removed from his executive post in Paris three weeks later and demoted to an administrative consulting role in a regional branch office in Ohio—far away from the prestige of Manhattan or Europe.
Meanwhile, in Lake Forest, the Mercer family structure collapsed entirely without my unpaid labor to hold it together.
One afternoon in late autumn, while working from my new office in the Gold Coast, my phone rang with an unlisted local number.
I answered smoothly. "Claire Bennett."
"Claire?"
It was Paige. Her voice lacked its usual sharp, condescending edge. She sounded tired, overwhelmed, and remarkably young.
"Hello, Paige," I said calmly. "You shouldn't be calling this number. My legal team sent instructions to your mother regarding contact."
"Claire, please don't hang up," Paige pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I don't know what to do. Mom fell in the garden yesterday. She didn't break anything, but her knee is completely inflamed, and the private physical therapy service stopped coming because Evan's card was declined."
I sat back in my executive leather chair, looking out over the blue expanse of Lake Michigan.
"That sounds difficult, Paige," I said quietly.
"Can’t you... can’t you just call the agency?" Paige asked, her old entitlement creeping back into her tone for a brief second. "You used to manage all her care accounts. The agency won't even talk to me because my name isn't on the primary billing file! Mom is crying, and I have to go to work, and I can't keep driving out to Lake Forest every night!"
"Paige," I said, my voice as firm and cold as iron. "Do you remember what you told me at the dinner table three nights before Evan left for Paris?"
Silence answered me over the line.
"You told me that I didn't work," I reminded her softly. "You told me that I was basically a high-end housekeeper, and that I should be grateful Evan built a life for me."
"Claire, I was just—"
"You are her daughter, Paige," I cut in smoothly. "Taking care of your family while your brother works in Ohio is the very least you can do to contribute. After all, you have so much free time now."
"Claire, please—"
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"Good luck with the dry cleaning, Paige," I said.
I ended the call and blocked her number permanently.
