Chapter 4 - The Discovery
Two weeks after the funeral, the Vance mansion in Laurelhurst was quiet, save for the sound of packing tape ripping off rolls and the steady tread of professional movers.
Evelyn stood in the center of Lily’s bedroom. The walls were painted a soft pastel lavender, covered in glow-in-the-dark stars that they had stuck on the ceiling together during a rainy weekend in October.
She was carefully wrapping Captain Fuzzy in tissue paper, placing the worn plush bear inside a heavy-duty storage bin that would be taken to her new townhouse in Bellevue—an estate purchased outright by Arthur Sterling, completely out of Julian’s legal reach.
The bedroom door creaked open. Julian stood in the threshold. He hadn't shaved in days, and he was holding a glass of Scotch despite it being only ten in the morning.
“You’re stripping the house bare,” he said, his voice thick and slurred. “You’re taking everything that smells like her.”
“She doesn't live here anymore, Julian,” Evelyn said without looking up from the box. “Neither do I.”
“I made a mistake!” he shouted suddenly, slamming his palm against the doorframe. The Scotch sloshed over the rim of his glass, staining the white carpet. “One mistake, Evelyn! I was drunk! I didn't hear the phone! Why are you punishing me like I murdered her? I am a father who lost his child!”
Evelyn stopped wrapping the tissue paper. She stood up slowly, her spine stiffening, and turned to face him.
“A mistake is forgetting to buy milk on the way home,” she said, her voice dropping into that chilling, clinical tone that terrified him. “A mistake is taking the wrong exit on the freeway. What you did was a pattern of narcissistic neglect that culminated in the death of my daughter.”
“Our daughter!” he screamed, tears of rage and self-pity spilling over his eyelashes. “Why won't you let me grieve? Why have you frozen my personal bank accounts? My credit cards were declined at the club yesterday, Evelyn! The bank said there’s a forensic hold on the Vance accounts! What did you do?”
Evelyn tilted her head, watching him squirm. “I didn't freeze your accounts, Julian. The federal banking authorities did. Following an anonymous tip regarding fraudulent wire transfers from the Vance Family Foundation to a shell company called Apex Horizon Holdings.”
Julian’s breath hitched. The color vanished from his face so fast he looked like he might faint. He took a step backward, his back hitting the hallway wall. “How... how do you know about Apex?”
“I am a surgeon, Julian,” Evelyn said, taking a step toward him. “My entire career is based on diagnosing rot hidden beneath the surface. Did you really think my father wouldn't look into your books after what you did to Lily?”
“That money was a short-term loan!” he stammered, panic finally replacing the alcohol-induced bravado. “The commercial real estate market took a dive! I was going to pay it back with interest once the waterfront development closed! It had nothing to do with Lily!”
“That foundation was created to fund pediatric respiratory research,” Evelyn said, her voice shaking for the first time since the night of the hospital. “You stole four million dollars from the very fund that was supposed to build the new pulmonary wing at Seattle Grace. You stole from sick children to pay for Chloe Monroe’s sports car and your bad gambling debts in Macao.”
“Evelyn, please,” Julian begged, dropping to his knees on the lavender rug, the glass of Scotch shattering on the floor. He didn't even care about the glass cutting his trousers. “If this gets out, the board will remove me! I’ll go to prison! Vance Enterprises will be destroyed! My mother will die of the shame!”
“Then tell Eleanor to buy a black veil,” Evelyn said coldly. She picked up the sealed cardboard box containing Captain Fuzzy and walked past him, stepping over the shattered glass and spilled liquor.
May you like
At the top of the stairs, she paused and looked back at him one last time.
“I have filed the divorce papers, Julian. My father’s legal team will serve you at your corporate office tomorrow morning. Don't bother hiring the best defense attorneys in Seattle—my father already has them on retainer.”
