Chapter 6 - A Brand New Portfolio
One year later.
The summer sun beamed down over the French Riviera, painting the waters of the Mediterranean in brilliant shades of turquoise and sapphire.
I stood on the expansive stone terrace of L’Étoile de Saint-Tropez, a gorgeous, twenty-two-room luxury boutique cliffside hotel featuring private infinity pools, Michelin-starred dining, and breathtaking views of the coastline.
It was the newest jewel in Vane Hospitality’s global portfolio—and my proudest achievement.
Six months after my divorce was finalized, Jonathan Vane had officially retired as CEO, stepping up to Chairman Emeritus. With the unanimous support of the board of directors, I had been named the new Chief Executive Officer of Vane Hospitality Group—the youngest, and first female, CEO in the company’s fifty-year history.
"It looks even better in person than it did in the architectural renderings," a deep, warm voice said behind me.
I turned around, a genuine, radiant smile spreading across my face.
Julian Thorne walked out onto the terrace, holding two crystal flutes of vintage French champagne.
Julian was forty-two, a brilliant, self-made British architect who had designed the Saint-Tropez property. He was tall, with sharp features, warm hazel eyes, and a quiet, immovable confidence born of actual talent and hard work. We had met during the development phase of the project, and over the past eight months, our professional partnership had blossomed into something remarkably deep, honest, and effortless.
Julian handed me a glass, his fingers brushing gently against mine—a touch that sent a pleasant, reassuring warmth through my chest.
"To the CEO," Julian toasted, clinking his glass against mine. "And to building things that actually last."
"To building things that last," I repeated, taking a sip of the crisp champagne.
We stood together at the marble balustrade, watching the mega-yachts glide across the blue waters of the bay.
"I received an interesting email from Arthur Vance this morning," I mentioned casually, leaning my back against the stone rail.
Julian raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? Is your ex-husband trying to appeal the judgment again?"
I laughed—a light, easy laugh that felt completely natural. "No. His appeal was dismissed with prejudice three months ago. But Arthur informed me that Ethan officially made his first monthly installment payment on his court-ordered debt."
"How much?" Julian asked, smiling.
"Two hundred and fifteen dollars," I replied. "Calculated as a mandatory wage garnishment from his paycheck as an assistant manager at a regional car rental agency in Newark."
Julian shook his head, a soft smirk on his lips. "At that rate, he’ll have you paid off in about one hundred and forty-eight years."
"I don't care about the money," I said, looking out at the endless horizon. "I never did. I just wanted him to learn that everything in this life has a price tag. And some debts can't be cleared with a smile and a fake credit card."
Julian stepped closer, setting his glass down on the table, and gently reached out to take my hand in his. His grip was strong, steady, and real—the hand of a man who built things with his own hands, who respected my power, and who loved me not for what I could buy him, but for who I was.
"What are you thinking about, Clara?" Julian asked softly, looking into my eyes.
I looked at the sparkling blue Mediterranean, at the magnificent hotel standing tall behind us, at the life I had carved out of hard work, resilience, and unyielding self-worth.
I thought about the scholarship girl from Portland who had once believed she needed to marry into "old money" to be worthy of respect.
I thought about the woman who had watched her world crumble across a sales counter at Bergdorf Goodman and chosen to smile instead of cry.
And I realized that I hadn't lost an empire that day on Fifth Avenue.
May you like
I had simply cleared away the trash so I could build my own.
"I'm thinking," I smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss against Julian’s cheek, "that the view from the top is much better when you paid for the ticket yourself."
