Chapter 4 - The Phoenix Rising
For the next eighteen months, I disappeared from the world.
To Julian and my parents, I was a ghost. My lawyer, a ferocious woman named Evelyn Vance (Arthur’s trusted legal counsel), handled all communications. Every time Julian tried to push for a quick divorce settlement that would leave me with nothing, Evelyn would counter with an avalanche of financial discovery requests that threw his legal team into a panic. They couldn't understand how a supposedly broke stay-at-home mom was funding a legal defense team that cost twelve hundred dollars an hour.
Julian assumed I was sleeping on a friend's couch, slowly draining whatever meager savings I could scrape together. He even sent me a text message one night: “Stop wasting your time, Nat. Sign the papers. You’re embarrassing yourself. Chloe and I are moving into the master bedroom this weekend.”
I didn't reply. I blocked the number and went back to work.
Under Arthur’s mentorship, I assumed the position of Managing Director at Apex Strategy Group, a newly formed venture capital firm funded entirely by Arthur’s capital but executed entirely by my vision. I worked eighteen-hour days, balanced by the beautiful, grounding presence of my children, who were thriving in their new environment. Avery was top of her class; Toby had taken up martial arts; Lily was a bubbly, happy toddler who no longer remembered the cold night on her grandparents' porch.
My first major move at Apex was to quietly acquire a distressed commercial real estate firm called Blackwood Holdings. Blackwood held the master leases for several high-end retail developments in the city—including the trendy shopping district where my sister Clara operated her boutique marketing and PR firm, Clara’s Creative Concept.
Clara’s business relied heavily on her elite image. She drove a leased Porsche, wore designer clothes, and frequently posted on social media about her "self-made success." What she didn't post about was that her firm was three months behind on its commercial rent, and her primary client—a regional tech firm—was about to cancel their contract due to her poor performance.
I sat in my penthouse office at Apex, reviewing the acquisition files.
"Ms. Vance," my assistant, Sarah, said over the intercom. "The board has approved the final takeover of Blackwood Holdings. You now hold full operational control over all their commercial properties, effective immediately."
"Thank you, Sarah," I said. "Send a formal notice to all tenants regarding the change in management. And specifically, request an in-person audit for Clara’s Creative Concept due to their outstanding arrears."
"Right away, ma'clock."
A week later, I received an email from my father. It was the first time he had reached out to me since the night he shut the door in my face.
“Natalie,” the email read. “I hope you have come to your senses and resolved things with Julian. Family is family, after all. On another note, your sister Clara is experiencing a minor administrative misunderstanding with her office building's new landlord. Since you used to work in corporate, I was wondering if you still had any connections in real estate who could look into Blackwood Holdings for us? Let me know. - Dad.”
I stared at the screen, a cold smile touching my lips. He didn't ask how his grandchildren were. He didn't ask if we had a place to sleep. He only reached out because they needed a favor, still operating under the assumption that I was a low-level corporate worker who could be used as a tool for their convenience.
I typed a brief reply:
May you like
“Dear Dad, I am quite busy with my current ventures. However, I am fully aware of the situation at Blackwood Holdings. I suggest Clara prepare her financial records thoroughly. The new ownership is notoriously unforgiving of deadbeats. Regards, Natalie.”
I hit send. The trap was set.
