Chapter 7 - THE HOUSE OF CARDS
The fall of Flynn Vance was swift, brutal, and thoroughly televised.
By four o'clock that afternoon, federal agents executed a search warrant on Selina Thorne’s Seaport apartment, seizing over two million dollars worth of designer goods, luxury jewelry, and gold bullion. Selina, realizing that Flynn was stripped of all his corporate power and money, had surrendered every text message, every bank transfer receipt, and every recording she had collected over two years of their affair.
She had spent two years keeping receipts as insurance against Flynn. In the end, those receipts became the very nails that sealed his coffin.
I sat in the corner office of Vance Global Tower—now my office.
The heavy mahogany desk had been cleared of Flynn’s trophies and awards. In their place stood a single framed photograph of my father, Arthur Mercer, and a small picture of Clara laughing in our garden.
The door opened softly, and Harrison Cole walked in, carrying two glasses of iced tea.
"The Board just finalized the vote, Mabel," Harrison said, setting a glass down on my desk. "You have been formally confirmed as the Chairwoman and Chief Executive Officer of Vance Global Financial."
"How did the market react?" I asked, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window at the Boston skyline.
"The moment news broke that the Mercer Heritage Trust had taken direct control and that Arthur Mercer’s daughter was taking the helm... the stock jumped nineteen percent," Harrison smiled broadly. "Institutional clients who were threatening to pull their accounts have renewed their contracts. They remember your father’s name. And they remember what you did at Mercer Capital before you married that idiot."
I took a slow sip of my tea, feeling the cool liquid soothe my throat.
For three years, Flynn had convinced me that my brain had gone soft, that staying home with Clara had made me useless to the business world, that I was incapable of managing real money. He had built a wall of lies around me to make himself feel tall.
Now, the wall was gone, and I was standing on the peak.
"And Flynn?" I asked quietly.
May you like
"He left the building through the basement service elevator to avoid the reporters," Harrison said, his smile fading into serious focus. "He went back to the house in Wellesley. The movers from the trust management firm are already scheduled to lock the property down tomorrow morning at eight."
"Good," I said, standing up, taking my coat from the stand. "I think I'll go pay my husband one final visit."
