Chapter 4 - The Fall of the Prescotts
By Friday morning, the fallout from the Aether Core scandal had swept through the upper echelons of high society like a wildfire.
The Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg, and Forbes all ran the same front-page headline: THE RISE OF ALYSSA VANCE: HOW THE HEIRESS RECLAIMED HER EMPIRE AND OUSTED HER CEO HUSBAND.
Aaron’s mugshot was published across every financial news outlet after federal agents arrested him at his luxury suburban mansion on charges of wire fraud, grand larceny, and corporate embezzlement.
That afternoon, I drove out to the suburban estate in the hills—the grand, 12,000-square-foot mansion that I had bought with my own trust fund money three years ago, but which Evelyn Prescott had spent the last two years decorating as if it were her own personal palace.
When I stepped through the grand double doors of the foyer, the house was in utter chaos.
Suitcases were scattered across the white marble floor. Evelyn Prescott was running back and forth between the master living room and the entrance, hysterically throwing expensive silk dresses, crystal vases, and designer handbags into leather trunks.
Beside her, Jasmine was sobbing on the sofa, clutching a subpoena that had just been served to her by county marshals for her involvement in the JP Holdings shell company fraud.
"Pack faster, Jasmine!" Evelyn shrieked, her hair unkempt, her makeup smeared across her wrinkled cheeks. "The bank is going to freeze the house assets by four o'clock! We need to take whatever we can carry!"
"You won't be taking anything, Evelyn," I said, stepping into the foyer, my heels echoing sharply off the marble walls.
Evelyn spun around, dropping a gold-plated mantle clock onto the floor with a loud shatter.
"You!" Evelyn spat, her eyes wild with venomous hatred. "You evil, cold-hearted witch! Look what you've done to my family! My son is in a federal holding cell! His life is ruined! My name is dragged through the mud in every newspaper in the country!"
"Your son ruined his own life when he stole $45 million from his shareholders and treated his wife like a servant," I replied calmly, walking over to the fireplace and picking up a framed photograph of Aaron and me from our wedding day. I casually tossed it into the recycling bin by the desk.
"You ruined him out of jealousy!" Evelyn screamed, taking a threatening step toward me. "Because he was brilliant! Because he was the star! You couldn't handle being in his shadow, so you destroyed him!"
"Brilliant?" I chuckled softly, looking at her with genuine pity. "Evelyn, your son didn't know how to code a basic algorithm without my Zurich research team holding his hand. He was a salesman with a pretty face and a loud voice. I let him play the hero because I thought it made him happy. But you taught him that women were stepping stones."
I turned my eyes to Jasmine, who was shrinking into the sofa cushion, her hands shaking hysterically.
"And you, Jasmine," I said. "How are those orange slices tasting now?"
"Mrs. Vance... please," Jasmine sobbed, falling off the couch onto her knees, sliding across the rug toward my shoes. "I didn't know! Mr. Prescott told me that you two were getting divorced anyway! He told me you were just a room-mate who lived off his stock options! He said he was going to make me the First Lady of Aether Core!"
"And you believed him because he bought you a penthouse with stolen money," I said coldly, stepping back so her hand couldn't touch my shoe. "You were complicit in wire fraud, Jasmine. My legal team has already filed a civil suit to repossess the penthouse, the sports car he bought you, and every single dollar transferred into your account. You have until midnight to vacate that apartment before the marshals seize it."
Jasmine buried her face in her hands, weeping uncontrollably.
"And as for you, Evelyn," I said, turning back to my mother-in-law. "This house was purchased under my personal pre-marital trust shell. The eviction notice was posted on the front gate an hour ago. You have thirty minutes to take your personal clothing and get off my property."
Evelyn gasped, clutching her chest. "Evict me?! I am an old woman! Where am I supposed to go?! All my credit cards were declined this morning at the grocery store!"
"I suggest you ask Jasmine if you can crash on her sofa before the marshals take her apartment too," I said smoothly. "Or perhaps you can use some of that 'work ethic' you praised on the plane to find a job."
"You monster!" Evelyn screamed, her voice cracking into a desperate, pathetic screech. "Aaron will get out on bail! He will sue you for half of everything you own! Marital property, Alyssa! We will take you to court and strip you of every dime!"
Right on cue, Arthur Vance stepped through the front door, carrying a slender tablet.
"Actually, Mrs. Prescott," Arthur interrupted with a pleasant, professional smile, "Mr. Prescott’s bail hearing was held thirty minutes ago. Due to the flight risk posed by his attempt to flee to Geneva on a private jet on Wednesday, the federal judge denied bail. He will remain in custody at the metropolitan detention center pending trial."
Evelyn’s knees buckled. She collapsed onto a pile of unpacked suitcases, letting out a long, horrifying wail of total defeat.
"Furthermore," Arthur added, showing her a legal document on his screen, "under state law, any spouse convicted of felony embezzlement against a family-owned entity forfeits all rights to spousal support, legal fee coverage, and marital asset division. You are broke, Mrs. Prescott. Entirely, completely broke."
I looked down at the two broken women sitting on the floor of my foyer—the arrogant mother who had belittled me for years, and the ambitious secretary who thought she could steal my life over a piece of fruit.
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"Marcus will stand by the door," I told the security team waiting outside. "When thirty minutes are up, lock the gates."
I turned around, walked out the front doors of the mansion, and stepped into the afternoon sunlight. The air smelled fresh, clean, and entirely free of lies.
