Richard did not look at Sienna.
He opened his leather briefcase, extracting a thick sheaf of documents bound in navy blue leather.
“Mrs. Vance has the final signing authority for Vanguard Holdings,” Richard explained, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the patio.
“As the principal trustee and majority shareholder, all acquisitions must be personally ratified by her.”
Sienna’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
She looked from Richard to me, her eyes darted wildly.
“No,” she whispered. “This is Sarah. Sarah Miller. She’s a thief. She stole our formulas.”
“Sienna, shut up,” Marcus muttered, his face turning an ash-grey color.
He stepped forward, his hands trembling.
“Sarah? What is this? What is going on?”
I took a sip of my sparkling water.
The bubbles were cold against my throat.
“It’s Mrs. Vance, Marcus,” I said.
The wind off the harbor picked up, blowing a strand of hair across my face.
“Three years ago, you told me I was too weak for this business,” I said, my voice calm and even.
“You told me that in Greenwich, money writes the rules.”
“I took that advice to heart.”
Sienna grabbed Marcus’s arm, her fingernails digging into his linen sleeve.
“She’s bluffing, Marcus! Call the police! She’s trying to ruin our signing!”
Richard glanced at Sienna with cold professional disdain.
“I assure you, Ms. Hayes, Vanguard Holdings purchased ninety percent of Aura Skin’s outstanding debt three weeks ago.”
“We also purchased the minority shares held by your primary investors, the Sterling Group.”
“As of 4:00 p.m. today, Vanguard Holdings owns a sixty-two percent controlling stake in your company.”
Marcus swallowed hard. I could see the sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“So… you’re buying us out?” Marcus asked, a desperate note of hope rising in his voice.
“If you buy us, we still get the payout. The twenty million.”
I smiled. It was a small, polite smile.
“We are not buying you out, Marcus,” I said.
“We acquired the debt to foreclose on it.”
“Your company has been operating at a loss for two quarters, hidden by creative accounting.”
Sienna shook her head violently.
“That’s a lie! We are profitable! Our launch tonight is a success!”
“Your launch is funded by a line of credit that Vanguard Holdings now controls,” Richard said, handing a document to Marcus.
“Here is the formal notice of default.”
“You have twenty-four hours to settle the outstanding balance of four point six million dollars.”
Marcus stared at the paper.
The color drained completely from his face.
“We don’t have four million,” Marcus whispered.
“I know,” I said.
“Which means the intellectual property, including the botanical serum patent, reverts to the primary creditor.”
“That would be me.”
Sienna lunged toward me, her face contorted in rage.
“You b!tch!” she shrieked.
She reached for my face, her nails aimed at my eyes.
Before she could touch me, two large men in dark suits stepped out from the shadows near the harbor wall.
They grabbed Sienna’s arms, holding her firmly.
The guests at the surrounding tables gasped, standing up to watch the scene.
“Get your hands off her!” Marcus yelled, though he made no move to help her.
“Let her go,” I told the security guards.
They released her, stepping back but remaining close.
Sienna stood panting, her emerald dress wrinkled, her perfect blonde curls falling flat in the humid air.
“You can’t do this, Sarah,” Marcus said, his voice cracking.
“We built this. We worked for three years.”
“You built it on my stolen work and my stolen money,” I said.
“I simply came to collect the interest.”
Richard turned to the security detail.
“Please escort Mr. Vance and Ms. Hayes off the property.”
“The Delamar has been informed that the private event reservation has been canceled by the host.”
“Which is Vanguard Holdings.”
The high-profile investors they had courted for months stood in a stunned circle near the bar.
The manager of the Delamar, a tall man in a dark suit, walked out onto the patio.
He looked at Marcus and Sienna, then bowed slightly to me.
“Mrs. Vance, we have prepared your private dining room upstairs,” the manager said.
“The catering staff is relocating the champagne.”
“Thank you, Henri,” I said.
Sienna began to scream at the guests, pointing at me.
“She’s a fraud! She married an old man for his money! She didn’t earn this!”
Her friends, the ones who had laughed at the wine stain on my trousers, turned their backs on her.
They stepped away, whispering to one another, their eyes wide.
Marcus looked at me, his eyes pleading.
“Sarah, please. Talk to me. We were together for five years. You loved me.”
“I loved the man I thought you were,” I said.
“That man never existed.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, my guests are waiting.”
I turned my back on them.
I walked toward the glass doors leading to the private dining room.
Behind me, I heard the sound of Sienna’s heels clicking rapidly away as security escorted them toward the parking lot.
The following morning, Vanguard Holdings filed the foreclosure paperwork in the Greenwich district court.
By Friday, Aura Skin was declared bankrupt.
The patent for the botanical serum was officially transferred back to my name.
Marcus and Sienna’s Greenwich home, which was leveraged against the business debt, was seized.
I sold the house to a family with three young children who wanted a yard to play in.
Richard handed Marcus a second document—a lawsuit for the recovery of the original inheritance money they had stolen from my account three years ago.
With interest, the total came to six hundred thousand dollars.
Unable to pay, Marcus took a job as a junior sales representative at a car dealership in Stamford.
Sienna moved back to her parents’ house in Ohio, unable to afford her apartment or her lifestyle.
They broke up three weeks after the foreclosure, blaming each other for the ruin.
I sat on the deck of my home in La Jolla Shores, watching the Pacific waves roll in.
The cool breeze carried the scent of salt and eucalyptus.
I took a sip of my tea, feeling the warmth of the ceramic mug in my hands.
The past was finally where it belonged.
Behind me.
