The Uber Receipt

One week after Maya’s birth, a final piece of correspondence arrived at the estate via courier service.

It was a thick manila envelope forwarded from our former penthouse address. Mr. Henderson brought it into my study while I was reviewing the quarterly philanthropic grants for the Sterling Foundation.

"From Mr. Vance's legal counsel, ma'am," Arthur said, placing the envelope neatly on the edge of my mahogany desk. "A formal petition for divorce, alongside a request for spousal support and asset division."

I set my pen down, picked up the envelope, and slid the contents out.

The legal document was messy—drafted in a hurry by a mid-tier divorce attorney who clearly hadn't realized that Brandon had signed away all corporate shares, patent rights, and trust associations before walking out of the hospital. Brandon was claiming fifty percent of my pre-marital assets, citing "undue psychological pressure and forced corporate relinquishment."

I couldn't help a dry, humorless chuckle escape my lips.

"What are your instructions, Mrs. Sterling?" Arthur asked calmly, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Send it to our lead litigator, Marcus Vance—no, Marcus Thorne," I corrected myself smoothly. "Tell him to file a counter-suit for full custody waiver, immediate eviction from all remaining personal liabilities, and a strict restraining order preventing Brandon from coming within five miles of me or my daughter."

"Consider it done," Arthur replied with a crisp nod. "Shall I also include the itemized invoice for the Uber ride he suggested you take?"

I looked up, surprised, before a genuine, bright smile broke across my face. "Arthur, did you actually..."

"Mr. Vance’s current mailing address is a two-room studio apartment on the south side, paid for two weeks in advance by his mother," Arthur deadpanned, a rare, subtle twinkle appearing in his eyes. "I thought it would be poetic justice to have a single corporate-expensed Uber receipt delivered to his front door every morning at 3:00 AM."

I laughed out loud—a bright, clear sound that echoed off the mahogany bookshelves of the study.