Chapter 14 - The Poisoned Pen
Three days into my tenure as the head of Vance Holdings, the inevitable retaliation arrived. It did not come through corporate proxy battles or legal filings; those avenues were dead ends for Eleanor and Julian. It came through the sewers of tabloid journalism.
I was sitting in the library of the main estate, going over the children's revised security protocols with our head of detail, when Marcus hurried in, his face drawn tight.
"Turn on the television," Marcus commanded quietly.
I picked up the remote and clicked the screen mounted above the fireplace. A sensationalist morning gossip show was airing, and plastered across the screen in glaring red letters was a headline that made my blood run cold:
*BILLION-DOLLAR HEIRS OR BASTARD FRAUDS? SOURCES CLAIM EVELYN ROSS'S QUADRUPLETS ARE NOT OF VANCE BLOODLINE.*
On the screen, a sleazy entertainment lawyer flanked by a well-known tabloid editor was holding court.
"Our confidential source close to the Vance family matriarch indicates that Evelyn Ross orchestrated a fraudulent marriage and concealed paternity to stage an illegal corporate takeover," the commentator sneered. "We are told that formal challenges will be filed contesting the legitimacy of the children's claims to the Vance trusts."
My hand tightened around the armrest until my knuckles turned white.
"They went after the children," Marcus said, his voice laced with venom. "Julian sold an interview to Damien Cross's media syndicate. Cross has been trying to acquire Vance Tower’s media holdings for years. He paid Julian half a million dollars under the table to air this slander and shake shareholder confidence in your leadership."
"They dare," I whispered, the words trembling with a fury so pure and lethal it silenced the room. "They stripped those babies of their father. They threw them out into the cold. And now they want to brand them as illegitimate frauds on national television to save their own pathetic skins."
I stood up, smoothing the front of my tailored charcoal suit.
"Evelyn, what do you want to do?" Marcus asked. "We can issue a cease-and-desist, have the network pull the segment by noon—"
"No," I cut him off, my voice steadying into a blade of ice. "A cease-and-desist makes it look like we have something to hide. It makes it look like we're panicking. Call the city's press corps. Every major network, every financial paper, every local affiliate. Tell them Chairman Evelyn Ross will hold an emergency press conference at eleven o'clock on the steps of Vance Tower."
"What are you going to do?"
May you like
"I am going to end this family publicly, once and for all."
***
