Chapter 2 - The House of Cards
By 4:00 PM, the fallout was catastrophic.
Aspen is a small town, especially among the elite. Word travels faster than a private jet. The local police cruiser blocking the entrance to Highridge Lodge became a spectacle. Caterers in branded vans were forced to turn around, dumping thousands of dollars of wagyu beef and imported caviar into the local food banks when it became clear there was no venue to host the reception.
My phone continued to blow up, but I had handed it to Marcus.
"Chloe has taken to social media," Marcus noted, reading from the screen. "She just posted a tearful video claiming you had a psychological break and kicked them out of their own home out of sheer jealousy."
I laughed. A bitter, hollow sound. "Jealousy? Of what? Her leased Porsche or her father's over-leveraged tech company?"
"She's trying to spin the narrative to save face with her guests," Marcus explained. "Richard’s investors are already at the St. Regis, expecting a weekend of luxury and backdoor deal-making at your estate."
"Let them talk," I said, looking out at the sweeping mountain vistas. "The truth always leaves a paper trail."
Down in the town of Aspen, Julian was living a nightmare. According to the updates Marcus received from our security team, Julian and Chloe had retreated to a cramped lobby at a boutique hotel because their credit cards—tied to the trust account I had just frozen—were declining.
Chloe was screaming at Julian in the middle of the lobby, her perfect blowout ruined by the wind and her own manic hand-wringing.
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"Fix this!" she was overheard screeching. "My father has a senator flying in from D.C.! We can't host them in a Best Western, Julian! You said your mother was a pushover! You said she’d just roll over and hand us the deed!"
Julian, the boy I had raised to be strong, stood there looking completely broken. He was finally seeing the woman he was about to marry not through the lens of infatuation, but through the harsh, unforgiving light of a financial crisis.
