Chapter 2 - The Miami Delusion
Two thousand miles away, in the oceanfront cabana of the Fontainebleau Miami Beach, Grant Vance swirled a glass of eighteen-year-old scotch. Sunlight glittered off the turquoise waters of the Atlantic as his mother, Elaine, adjusted her oversized designer sunglasses and leaned back against her velvet lounger.
"I still can't believe you finally took charge, Grant," Elaine said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Lena was far too possessive of that house. A wife is supposed to share everything with her husband. The way she treated you—making you feel like a guest in your own home—it was disgraceful."
Grant took a sip of his drink, though a slight knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. He remembered the look on Lena’s face through the security camera when her access code had beeped red at the gate. He had watched the feed from his phone while waiting at the gate for his mother's airport shuttle.
"She’s weak right now, Mom," Grant rationalized, puffing out his chest. "She just had a major medical procedure. She has no family in the city besides Nora, and Nora lives in a modest townhouse that barely has room for a newborn. Lena will realize within a week that she can't raise Ava alone without my support network. She'll come begging for a reconciliation, and when she does, she’ll put my name on the deed just to get back inside."
"And what about her company?" Elaine asked, her eyes gleaming with avarice. "Vance Technology Solutions is worth forty million dollars, Grant. You need to make sure your financial advisory firm gets exclusive management of her corporate treasury."
"One step at a time," Grant smirked, pulling up his banking app. "I checked the household operating account this morning. There’s still two hundred thousand dollars in it. I transferred fifty thousand into my private account to cover our penthouse suite and the yacht rental for tomorrow."
"You deserve it, son," Elaine beamed. "You worked so hard to marry into that level of wealth. It’s time you enjoyed the fruits of your labor."
Just then, Grant’s sister, Brooke, walked into the cabana carrying a stack of shopping bags from Bal Harbour. "Grant! Look at these outfits I got for the baby! I bought the most expensive cashmere dresses. When we go back to Boulder next month, I’m going to redo the nursery. Lena’s taste in interior design is so dreary."
Grant chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Do whatever you want, Brooke. Once Lena signs the co-ownership papers, Cedar Ridge is officially our family estate."
May you like
His phone buzzed on the glass table. It was an automated notification from the Boulder Police Department's non-emergency line, but Grant ignored it, assuming it was a routine neighborhood watch alert. He turned his phone face down, leaned back into the plush lounger, and motioned for the cabana attendant to bring another bottle of champagne.
He had no idea that at that exact moment, a heavy commercial transport truck was pulling up to the perimeter gates of Cedar Ridge Lane, escorted by two private security vehicles hired by Apex Capital Holdings.
