Chapter 5 - The Empress
The federal agents marched Bennett out through the revolving doors, shoving him into the back of a waiting black SUV. The flashing red and blue lights illuminated the rain-slicked pavement, a spectacular, highly public conclusion to his arrogant reign.
The guests in the lobby stood in stunned, reverent silence. I turned to Malcolm, who was offering a faint, incredibly satisfied smile.
"Malcolm," I said, my voice warm and steady. "Please have the bellmen return my luggage to the penthouse. And instruct the culinary team to send a bottle of their finest champagne up to my suite."
"Immediately, Ms. Eleanor," Malcolm bowed slightly, signaling the staff to spring into action.
I picked up the small leather case containing the photographs of my parents from the luggage cart. They had built this legacy with honor, and I had just brutally, effectively purged the infection that had tried to steal it. I slipped my arms into the soft, heavy warmth of my mother's white sable coat, pulling the collar up against the chill of the evening.
I walked toward the private executive elevators, my heels clicking sharply against the imported marble. I didn't need to explain myself to the crowd. I didn't need to beg for their understanding or defend my sanity. Power does not need to justify itself to spectators.
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Bennett had thought he could write the script of my destruction. He thought he could steal my home, my wealth, and my dignity, and leave me standing on the sidewalk in the rain. He never understood that when you push a woman out of the comfortable illusion of her marriage, you do not make her weak. You force her to remember exactly how to fight.
I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse, ready to take my rightful place at the top of the empire I had just reclaimed.
