Chapter 5 - Ashes to Ashes
The media frenzy outside the Ritz-Carlton was blinding.
Flashbulbs popped in rapid succession as federal agents escorted Marcus Hayes out of the hotel in steel handcuffs. Behind him, Ethan Cole was practically being dragged by two police officers. His tuxedo jacket was torn, his tie hung loose around his unbuttoned collar, and tears, sweat, and mascara ran down his red, ruined face.
Reporters thrust microphones into his face, shouting questions: "Mr. Cole! Is it true you embezzled twelve million dollars?!" "Did you know your wife was the billionaire Chairwoman of Vanguard Dominion?!" "How does it feel to lose everything on the night of your promotion?!"
Ethan didn't answer. He couldn't speak. He stared blankly at the flashing lights, his mind completely shattered by the speed of his catastrophic downfall.
Beside the police cruisers, Vanessa Hayes was screaming at her father’s lawyers, trying frantically to distance herself from the scandal while photographers snapped endless photos of her crying in her silver gown.
Inside the ballroom, Clara stood at the center stage, surrounded by the remaining members of the board of directors.
"Madam Chairwoman," the senior vice president of global strategy said, bowing respectfully. "We are ready to initiate the restructuring protocol immediately. The shares previously allocated to Marcus Hayes's division have been frozen."
"Good," Clara said, handing her champagne glass to a passing waiter. "Appoint Director Chen as interim head of operations. Clean out every corrupt executive Hayes brought into the building. We start fresh tomorrow morning."
"Understood, ma'am."
At 2:00 AM, Ethan was released on emergency signature bail, stripped of his passport, and dropped off on the curb outside the townhouse by a police cruiser.
Rain had begun to fall over Chicago, soaking his hair and his ruined tuxedo. He stumbled up the brick walkway toward the front door, his hands trembling violently as he pulled out his house keys.
He shoved the key into the lock.
It wouldn't turn.
Ethan blinked through the rain, pushing the key harder, turning it left and right. The lock had been replaced with a high-tech biometric electronic keypad.
"No... no, no, no!" Ethan panicked, pounding his fists against the heavy wooden door. "Clara! Open the door! Clara!"
The door didn't open. Instead, a large white moving van parked down the street pulled up to the curb. Four men in dark uniforms stepped out, carrying heavy industrial boxes.
"What are you doing?!" Ethan screamed, running up to the movers. "This is my house!"
"Mr. Cole?" the lead mover asked, pulling up a digital work order. "This property is registered under the Vaughn Residential Trust. We have orders to clear out all personal property belonging to Clara Eleanor Vaughn."
"My stuff!" Ethan shrieked. "Where is my stuff?!"
The mover pointed to three black plastic garbage bags sitting on the wet curb beside the rusted iron grill.
"Your personal belongings—clothes bought before your employment at Vanguard, personal papers, and your old college books—have been packed into those bags," the mover said coldly. "The townhouse keyless entry has been updated. You have five minutes to clear off the property before private security issues a formal criminal trespassing charge."
Ethan collapsed onto his knees on the wet pavement beside the three garbage bags.
He reached out, his trembling, mud-covered hands touching the black iron grill.
Inside, the wet, black ashes of Clara’s blue dress were washing away into the drain below the patio.
He had burned a two-hundred-dollar dress because he thought she wasn't good enough to stand beside him.
May you like
And in doing so, he had burned away a four-billion-dollar empire, a penthouse on Michigan Avenue, a lifetime of unimaginable luxury, and the only woman who had ever truly loved him when he had nothing.
Ethan covered his face with his ruined hands and wailed into the rain, his cries bouncing off the cold, dark brick walls of the empty street.
