Chapter 5 - I TOOK BACK EVERYTHING
I left the hospital six days after the jet ski attack.
Not through the front entrance.
My father had turned my discharge into something resembling a military extraction.
Two armored SUVs.
Federal protection.
A decoy vehicle.
Electronic surveillance.
My mother thought it was excessive.
Then she requested another security team.
We Sterlings had our contradictions.
Amelia left with me.
She wore a white knitted hat and slept against my chest as if none of the adults surrounding her were discussing attempted murder, offshore accounts, and a missing financial officer.
I did not return to the home I had shared with Julian.
I went to my parents’ estate outside San Diego.
The house sat behind iron gates on a cliff overlooking the Pacific.
I had grown up there.
For the first time in years, it felt safe.
For approximately twelve hours.
Then Julian’s company board called an emergency meeting.
“Absolutely not,” my father said when I told him I planned to attend remotely.
“I’m going.”
“You had abdominal surgery six days ago.”
“I’m aware.”
“Genevieve.”
“Dad.”
My mother looked between us.
“Both of you stop.”
My father frowned.
My mother handed me a tablet.
“You’re attending.”
He stared at her.
“She needs rest.”
“She needs control.”
Then my mother looked at me.
“And afterward, you sleep.”
That was how the most important board meeting in Vance Maritime history began with me sitting in my childhood bedroom wearing sweatpants while my newborn daughter slept beside me.
Twelve directors appeared on-screen.
Three looked nervous.
Four looked terrified.
The rest looked annoyed.
Julian’s attorney attended from another location.
“Mrs. Vance,” Chairman Robert Ellison began, “given the personal circumstances involved, we believe it may be appropriate for you to temporarily recuse yourself from company matters.”
I stared at him.
“Personal circumstances?”
He cleared his throat.
“The allegations against Julian.”
“You mean the attempted murder charges?”
His face tightened.
“The investigation is ongoing.”
“So is my pulse.”
Nobody spoke.
I continued.
“I own thirty-one percent of this company through Sterling Horizon Investments.”
That caused exactly the reaction I expected.
Shock.
Confusion.
One director actually removed his glasses.
Robert stared at me.
“Sterling Horizon?”
“Yes.”
“Your family owns Sterling Horizon?”
“My family founded it.”
Julian’s attorney went pale.
I almost enjoyed that.
The anonymous investment group Julian had bragged about for years belonged to me.
My mother had structured the investment so my identity remained private.
I had never used the shares to control Julian.
Today, that ended.
“I am exercising my voting rights immediately.”
Robert leaned forward.
“For what purpose?”
“To remove Julian Vance as CEO.”
Chaos erupted.
I let them talk.
Then I placed Daniel Cross’s financial records on screen.
The room died.
“These documents are already in federal custody.”
Silence.
“Anyone who participated in the fraudulent vendor scheme should contact counsel before federal investigators contact you.”
One director abruptly disconnected.
Marcus, sitting across the room, smiled without humor.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
Robert’s voice shook.
“What exactly are you accusing this board of?”
“I’m not accusing the board.”
I looked into the camera.
“I’m giving everyone an opportunity to decide whether they want to be witnesses or defendants.”
My mother smiled.
My father looked reluctantly impressed.
The vote happened twenty-two minutes later.
Julian was removed.
Eight votes to three.
One abstention.
Then I made another motion.
Independent forensic audit.
Unanimous.
Cowards become cooperative remarkably quickly when federal subpoenas are mentioned.
After the call, I closed the tablet and felt something inside me shift.
For months, Victoria had made me feel like an unwanted guest inside my own marriage.
Julian had made me question whether pregnancy had made me too emotional, too suspicious, too needy.
I had spent six months shrinking.
No more.
My phone rang.
Julian.
I declined.
He called again.
I declined.
The third call came from his attorney.
Marcus nodded.
“Take it.”
I answered.
Julian’s voice came first.
“You removed me?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I already did.”
“That company is mine.”
“No. Thirty-one percent is mine. Another nineteen percent is controlled by investors who voted against you.”
“I built Vance Maritime.”
“And then apparently used it to launder money.”
“That is not proven.”
“Neither is your innocence.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Genevieve, listen. You’re angry.”
I almost admired the stupidity.
“Angry?”
“You nearly lost the baby. You’re emotional.”
My father stood so quickly that Marcus put up one hand.
I remained calm.
“Julian, do you remember our fifth anniversary?”
Silence.
“What?”
“You bought me a watch.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A silver Cartier.”
“Yes.”
“I thanked you even though the card was signed by your assistant because she bought it.”
“Genevieve—”
“Do you remember our eighth anniversary?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You forgot it.”
“That was during the Singapore acquisition.”
“You told me I was selfish for mentioning it.”
He said nothing.
“Do you remember when I told you Victoria was crossing boundaries?”
“She was an executive—”
“You said I was insecure.”
“Genevieve.”
“You spent years teaching me to distrust my own judgment.”
“That’s not true.”
“And six days ago, you stood on a dock and watched someone drag your pregnant wife through the ocean.”
His breathing became ragged.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I didn’t know Victoria would drive so fast.”
“You helped tie me to the jet ski.”
Silence.
Marcus leaned forward.
I continued.
“Why?”
Julian said nothing for so long I thought the connection had dropped.
Then:
“Because you wouldn’t sign.”
There it was.
Not love.
Not confusion.
Not Victoria manipulating him.
Money.
“I thought if you got scared enough, you’d agree to the restructuring.”
“And the baby?”
“I thought she’d be okay.”
She.
He had called our daughter “she.”
Not Amelia.
Not my daughter.
Just she.
Something inside me became quiet.
I was done grieving the man I thought I married.
He had never existed.
“Goodbye, Julian.”
“Genevieve, wait.”
“I filed for divorce this morning.”
His silence was almost satisfying.
“You what?”
“You’ll receive the papers.”
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m stopping you from doing more.”
I ended the call.
My father looked at me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
It was the truth.
“But I will be.”
That evening, Marcus arrived with news.
Divers had located a vehicle forty miles offshore beneath nearly three hundred feet of water.
It belonged to Daniel Cross.
Inside were human remains.
Dental records would take time.
But Daniel’s wedding ring had been found near the driver’s seat.
I sat completely still.
Julian had told everyone Daniel ran away.
For four years, Daniel’s widow believed her husband abandoned her and their daughter.
He had not abandoned anyone.
Someone had buried him beneath the Pacific.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Marcus closed the file.
“Murder investigation.”
“Against Julian?”
“We need evidence connecting him.”
I remembered something.
A conversation from years earlier.
Julian coming home after midnight.
Wet shoes.
A cut on his hand.
He said he had helped move equipment at the marina.
The night Daniel disappeared.
My breathing changed.
“I remember something.”
Marcus leaned forward.
I told him.
Within two hours, investigators obtained old vehicle tracking records from Julian’s company car.
The data still existed on an archived insurance server.
At 1:13 a.m. the night Daniel disappeared, Julian’s vehicle traveled from corporate headquarters to a private marina.
At 1:51 a.m., Victoria’s vehicle arrived.
At 2:08, a Martin Vale Recovery Services truck entered.
At 4:37, all three left.
Marcus stared at the timeline.
“That’s enough for warrants.”
My father stood.
“Bring them down.”
But before Marcus could leave, his phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“Victoria Hayes escaped federal supervision during a hospital transfer.”
My blood chilled.
“How?”
“She had help.”
“From whom?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked toward Amelia sleeping in my mother’s arms.
The house suddenly felt less safe.
Marcus walked to the window.
Then his phone buzzed again.
A photograph appeared.
He turned the screen toward us.
It showed my parents’ front gate.
Taken less than five minutes earlier.
A message was written beneath it.
YOU TOOK HER COMPANY.
NOW I’LL TAKE WHAT SHE LOVES.
My mother tightened her arms around Amelia.
My father’s entire body went still.
May you like
And I knew exactly who Victoria meant.
She was coming for my daughter.
