Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
The dinner service that followed was one of the smoothest, most harmonious shifts we had experienced in months. Without the lingering shadow of family debt, unspoken betrayals, and financial bleeding, every single member of my kitchen brigade moved with renewed synergy and focus. By 9:30 PM, our dining room was filled with regular patrons who genuinely appreciated our food, laughed over wine, and tipped our staff generously.
When the last ticket was cleared from the pass at 11:00 PM, I poured myself a small cup of espresso, walked out into the quiet dining room, and sat down at corner table four—the very table where Beatrice had staged her obnoxious spectacle earlier that day.
The tables had been reset, polished to a mirror finish, and draped in crisp white linen. The room was peaceful, smelling faintly of roasted garlic, fresh flowers, and beeswax polish.
The front door chimed softly.
I looked up.
Lydia Vance-Sterling walked into the restaurant. She wore a sharp charcoal pantsuit, her blonde hair pulled back into a severe corporate bun, carrying a sleek leather briefcase under her arm. Her eyes scanned the empty dining room before locking onto mine with a sharp, approving smile.
She walked over, pulled out the chair opposite me, and sat down smoothly without waiting for an invitation.
“I hear you had quite an eventful lunch service,” Lydia said, raising an eyebrow as she unzipped her briefcase and pulled out a fresh stack of legal documents tied with a red ribbon.
“You could say that,” I smiled, taking a sip of my espresso. “Did the asset freeze go through?”
Lydia’s smile widened into a lethal, triumphant grin.
“At 4:15 PM, Judge Alpert signed the emergency injunction,” Lydia reported, her voice crisp and professional. “Every personal bank account, investment portfolio, and secondary credit line tied to Lucas Vance has been locked down tight. Furthermore, our forensic audit has officially flagged sixteen separate unauthorized wire transfers totaling over one hundred and forty thousand dollars directed to Apex Media Solutions and personal leisure accounts.”
I nodded slowly, feeling a deep, long-awaited wave of peace wash over me. ☕
“And what about Beatrice?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s currently locked in a screaming match with Lucas in her penthouse apartment, realizing that her beloved son is about to be sued into absolute bankruptcy,” Lydia laughed lightly, pulling a pen from her breast pocket. “She tried calling my office three times demanding a retraction. I sent her a polite PDF copy of the embezzlement statute instead.”
Lydia slid the documents across the table toward me.
“Here is the formal petition for dissolution of marriage, alongside the corporate indemnity agreement confirming that Lumina and all associated assets remain 100% in your sole possession, free and clear of any marital claims due to the prenuptial protective clauses,” Lydia explained.
I picked up the pen, flipped to the signature page, and read through the clauses with meticulous care. Every word was precise, protective, and empowering.
“All you have to do is sign,” Lydia said softly, watching me with steady, supportive eyes. “And this chapter is officially closed.”
I didn't hesitate. I pressed the tip of the pen against the paper and signed my name—Camilla Vance—with firm, unwavering strokes.
“Done,” I said, handing the pen and papers back to my cousin.
May you like
Lydia stacked the documents neatly, slid them back into her briefcase, and snapped it shut with a satisfying click.
“Congratulations, Camilla,” Lydia said, raising her water glass in a quiet toast. “You just survived a hostile takeover.”
