Chapter 2 - The Delivery
Before Callahan could answer, the heavy mahogany doors of the office swung open.
Belle walked in. She was wearing a blush-pink maternity dress, carrying a designer handbag, and radiating a petulant annoyance. Behind her was a woman in a sharp black suit whom Thatcher did not recognize.
"Thatcher, what is going on?" Belle whined, stepping up to his desk. "Your black Amex declined at the bakery. It was humiliating! And the driver said he isn't allowed to take me back to the townhouse."
Thatcher looked at his pregnant mistress. Yesterday, she had been his queen, the vessel for his legacy. Today, looking at the pout on her lips and the expensive jewelry glittering on her wrists, all he saw was a devastating liability.
The scene perfectly mirrored the chaos captured in A8.jpg. Thatcher sat at his desk, burying his hand in his hair in absolute, crushing despair, while Belle stood beside him, oblivious and demanding. Opposite them, the woman in the black suit stepped forward, extending a thick manila envelope toward Thatcher. In his mind, he could only see the haunting image of Saraphina in her white coat, walking away through the airport with her luggage, untouchable and supreme.
"Mr. Sterling," the woman in the black suit said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "I am the legal representative for Vanguard Holdings LLC. You have been served."
Thatcher's hands shook as he took the envelope. He tore it open.
It was a formal notice of corporate foreclosure. Vanguard Holdings had purchased all of Sterling Innovations' toxic debt.
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"Vanguard Holdings," Thatcher whispered, his throat completely dry. He looked up at the lawyer. "Who is the managing director of this firm?"
"I think you already know, Thatcher," a voice chimed in.
