Chapter 4 - The Eviction of the Parasites**
The silence that fell over the Hudson Yards gala was absolute. The string quartet stopped playing mid-note. Dozens of wealthy socialites, investors, and corporate rivals turned their heads, their jaws dropping as they stared at the disgraced CEO being cornered by security guards in the middle of a black-tie event.
“This is a mistake!” Everett roared, his face turning a deep, blotchy shade of crimson as he batted the paperwork away. “I built this company! I am Blackstone Crest! You can’t do this to me! Call security! Call the police!”
“We are security, Mr. Vance,” the lead officer replied calmly, signaling two more guards to step forward. “And your company credit cards have already been declined at the bar downstairs. Furthermore, your personal bank accounts have been frozen under court order pending a forensic investigation into unauthorized corporate expenditures.”
Madison shrieked, stepping back as if the security guards were plague carriers. “Wait! This has nothing to do with me! I’m a VIP guest! Everett, tell them!”
“Shut up, Madison!” Everett snapped, panic finally overriding his shock. He looked around the ballroom wildly, hoping to find a single ally among the corporate titans who had been kissing his ring just an hour earlier.
Instead, he found only cold, averted gazes. Prominent CEOs who had laughed at his jokes stepped backward into the crowd, distancing themselves instantly from a man who had just been erased from the corporate registry. In the brutal jungle of Manhattan finance, nobody wanted to be associated with a sinking ship.
Just then, Patricia—who had been sipping champagne near the buffet table—came rushing over, her face twisted in absolute outrage.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Patricia screeched, pointing a trembling finger at the security guards. “Do you know who my son is?! He is the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire! How dare you lay hands on him—!”
“Ma’am, step back,” the guard warned, his voice steady. “Or you will be removed for obstruction of justice.”
Everett’s knees seemed to buckle. The realization of what he had done—of what his arrogance, his infidelity, and his mother’s vicious cruelty had finally cost him—crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He hadn't just lost a job; he had lost his entire identity, his wealth, his status, and the very foundation that made him a man of consequence in this city.
“Where is she?” Everett whispered hoarsely, staring at the floor. “Where is Evelyn?”
“She left thirty minutes ago, sir,” the officer replied smoothly. “And right now, our asset recovery team is changing the locks at your Greenwich mansion. You have two hours to remove your personal belongings from the curb before they are hauled away to a municipal storage locker.”
Without another word, the security guards flanked Everett, firmly escorting the former CEO out of the grand ballroom through the service exit, while Madison burst into furious, humiliated tears, fleeing in the opposite direction toward the elevators.
Watching the live feed from the back of the Maybach parked outside, I slowly closed my tablet.
“Drive, Grant,” I said quietly.
May you like
The Maybach glided smoothly into the midnight traffic of Manhattan, leaving the glittering lights of Hudson Yards behind us.
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