Chapter 5 - The Public Mask Crumbles
Three days later, on December 28th, Cole was spiraling.
He was staying in a mid-tier hotel near Wall Street—he couldn't afford the Plaza anymore because his personal credit cards had been completely canceled. Sierra had already started giving him the cold shoulder after he failed to take her to Aspen for their planned New Year’s trip.
"Cole, what is going on?!" Sierra hissed over the phone as he sat on the edge of a cheap hotel bed. "My card was declined at the salon today! The landlord of my Soho apartment called and said the rent check bounced! You said you had unlimited access to the Bennett Trust!"
"Just give me a few days, Sierra!" Cole yelled, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Lauren is having a emotional breakdown! She took the kids to her family’s country home! Once I talk to her face-to-face, I’ll handle her. She loves me. She’s weak. She’s just throwing a pathetic tantrum because I wasn't home on Christmas!"
"Well, you better fix it fast," Sierra sneered. "Because I didn't spend the last year of my life dealing with your crying infants and your meek wife just to end up living in a three-star hotel."
She hung up on him.
Cole slammed his phone onto the desk. He needed to force a confrontation. He knew Lauren’s weaknesses. He had spent four years studying how to break her spirit—criticizing her cooking, making her feel inadequate as a mother, slowly cutting off her friends until she depended entirely on his validation. He was convinced that if he could just get her alone in a room, he could manipulate her back into submission.
He hired a private driver using the last bit of cash he had stashed in his office safe and instructed him to drive straight to the Bennett estate in Greenwich.
At 4:00 PM, Cole’s hired sedan pulled up to the iron gates of the estate. He got out of the car, adjusting his coat, putting on his signature confident smile—the one he used to sell bad investments to unsuspecting clients.
He buzzed the intercom at the gate.
"Lauren!" Cole shouted into the speaker. "Open the gate! Stop this ridiculous game! You’re being immature! We have two children to think about! Let me in so we can talk like adults!"
The heavy gates didn't open. Instead, a sleek black town car pulled up on the other side of the gate. The window rolled down, revealing Arthur Harris sitting in the leather backseat, looking down at Cole like he was a minor nuisance on the pavement.
"Mr. Whitmore," Arthur said through the iron bars.
"Harris," Cole spat, leaning against the gate. "Tell my wife to come out here right now. She’s hiding behind you because she’s terrified of facing me."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip from a porcelain coffee cup. "Mrs. Bennett isn't hiding, Cole. She’s currently inside having afternoon tea with her children while reviewing the legal filings for your total asset liquidation."
"She’s my wife!" Cole roared. "I have a right to see my children!"
Arthur pulled a folded blue document from his leather briefcase and passed it through the iron bars.
"This is an emergency protective order issued by the New York State Supreme Court," Arthur said calmly. "It prohibits you from coming within five hundred yards of Lauren Bennett, Noah Bennett, or Lily Bennett. It also revokes your legal custody rights pending a full psychological evaluation and financial fraud investigation."
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Cole grabbed the document, tearing it into quarters in a fit of rage. "This is garbage! I am Cole Whitmore! I run Whitmore Capital!"
"Not anymore, Mr. Whitmore," Arthur said softly as his driver began rolling up the window. "Check the Wall Street Journal evening edition. The board just accepted your forced resignation."
