Chapter 4 - The Fall of Vance Enterprises
By Monday morning, news of Arthur Vance's arrest had spread through the city's business elite like wildfire. A well-known corporate titan arrested for domestic battery and assault with a deadly weapon was headline news.
My father was held on $250,000 bail. Despite his wealth, the judge refused to grant an immediate release without a full psychiatric evaluation and a strict restraining order prohibiting him from coming within 1,000 feet of me or Daniel.
While my father sat in a county jail cell, Daniel took control. As the Vice President of Operations at Vance Enterprises, Daniel called an emergency board meeting for Monday afternoon.
I was still in my hospital room, resting with an IV in my arm, when Daniel called me on speakerphone.
"The board is voting to remove Dad as CEO," Daniel informed me. "His arrest triggered a morals clause in his contract. Major clients are already threatening to pull their contracts if the company stays associated with him."
"What about Rachel?" I asked softly.
"Rachel is at her parents' house," Daniel replied, his tone hardening. "I served her with divorce papers this morning. I'm seeking full legal and physical custody of Noah."
"Daniel... are you sure?" I asked, worried about the strain on him. "You loved her."
"I loved the woman I thought she was," Daniel said. "But someone who pushes a disabled woman into a table and then watches her father beat her isn't the woman I married. She showed me who she really is, Clara. Just like Dad did."
Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital in a wheelchair, my left leg in a full plaster cast again. Daniel drove me straight to his house—or rather, what was now just his and Noah's house. Rachel had cleared out her personal belongings under police supervision the day before.
As I entered the living room, I saw that the hardwood floor had been scrubbed clean. There was no trace of the pink cake or the blood. In the center of the room stood a brand-new, comfortable recliner, placed near the window with a soft throw blanket over it.
"This is your room for as long as you need it," Daniel said, wheeling me into the guest bedroom, which had been freshly made up with clean linens and flowers on the nightstand.
"Daniel, I can't invade your life like this," I protested, feeling tears sting my eyes. "You have enough to deal with."
"You're not invading anything, Clara," Daniel said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at me earnestly. "For years, I let Dad isolate you. I was so busy trying to earn his approval and build my career that I ignored how bad things were at home after Mom died. I let him hurt you. I can't undo the past, but I can make sure your future is safe."
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That evening, the doorbell rang. It was Detective Miller, the officer handling our case.
"Mr. Vance, Miss Vance," the detective said, entering the kitchen and placing a thick folder on the table. "The District Attorney has decided to press formal charges against both Arthur Vance and Rachel Vance."
