Chapter 7 - The Sugar Baby's Betrayal
By noon, news of Daniel Vance’s dramatic overthrow had shattered the New York financial world like a brick through a stained-glass window. Headlines across Bloomberg, The Wall Street Journal, and Page Six screamed the same jaw-dropping story:
'TECH CEO EVICTED FROM PENTHOUSE AND FIRED BY WIFE IN SAME 12 HOURS'
'THE STERLING REVENGE: REBECCA STERLING TAKES BACK CONTROL OF VANCE ENTERPRISES'
Daniel sat in a noisy, crowded diner three blocks away from his former headquarters, staring blankly at a cold cup of black coffee. His pristine tailored suit was rumpled, his hair unkempt, and his personal cell phone—the cheap prepaid burner he had bought at a corner bodega—lay on the sticky formica table.
He had spent three hours trying to call his high-powered defense attorneys, but every single firm told him the same thing: without a retainer fee of at least fifty thousand dollars upfront, they couldn't represent him against the legal juggernaut of the Sterling Trust.
Desperate, Daniel picked up the burner phone and dialed Chloe's number.
It rang five times before she finally picked up.
"Hello?" Chloe's voice sounded muffled, accompanied by the clink of ice glasses and smooth jazz music in the background.
"Chloe! Thank God you picked up!" Daniel gasped, leaning over the table, his voice full of frantic relief. "Listen to me, baby, I need you right now. The board executed an illegal takeover, but my lawyers are working on a counter-suit. I need to borrow your American Express card just to secure a hotel room and pay a retainer for a private investigator—"
"Daniel?" Chloe interrupted, her tone sharp, dry, and entirely devoid of affection. "Are you out of your mind?"
"What do you mean?" Daniel stuttered. "Chloe, it’s me! Daniel! I’m the man who bought you that Cartier bracelet last week!"
"Yeah, with a credit card that just got declined when Cartier called me this morning to verify the transaction," Chloe said with a harsh sneer. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? They sent two security guards to my apartment to repossess the bracelet!"
"I'll buy you ten Cartier bracelets once I reclaim my stock!" Daniel pleaded, his voice breaking. "You said you loved me! You said you wanted to build a future together!"
"I said I wanted to build a future with a billionaire tech mogul, Daniel," Chloe said with brutal honesty, laughing mockingly into the receiver. "Not a disgraced fifty-year-old ex-CEO who got evicted from his wife's apartment and doesn't even own a car. Do you know what people are saying on Instagram right now? I'm a laughingstock because of you!"
"Chloe, please..." Daniel begged, swallowing his pride completely. "Just let me stay at your apartment in Soho for a few days. Just until I sort out my bank accounts—"
"My apartment?" Chloe laughed loudly. "Daniel, my apartment lease was paid through your company's 'marketing budget' account! Guess what happened two hours ago? Your wife's lawyers sent me an eviction notice for corporate asset misuse! I have to move out by Friday!"
Daniel felt a cold fist clamp down on his heart. "She... she took your apartment too?"
"She froze everything, you idiot!" Chloe yelled into the phone. "And don't ever call this number again. I'm meeting with a literary agent at the Four Seasons right now. They're offering me fifty thousand dollars for an exclusive interview on 'How I Was Scammed by Fake Tech Millionaire Daniel Vance.'"
"You wouldn't dare!" Daniel roared, slamming his fist on the diner table, causing nearby patrons to look over in surprise.
"Watch me," Chloe replied coldly. "Oh, and by the way, Daniel? Take out the trash."
The line went dead.
Daniel stared at the phone screen as the call dropped. The very phrase he had used twenty-four hours ago to humiliate his wife had just been spat back into his face by the twenty-four-year-old woman he had ruined his life for.
He slumped back into the vinyl diner booth, his hands trembling violently. He was bankrupt, homeless, stripped of his title, publicly humiliated, and completely abandoned by everyone he had ever bought.
Suddenly, the phone in his hand buzzed with an incoming text message from an unknown number.
Daniel wiped his sweaty forehead and opened the message.
May you like
'If you want to get revenge on Rebecca and reclaim your company, meet me at the bar of the Greenwich Hotel in thirty minutes. Come alone. - A Friend.'
Daniel stared at the cryptic message. A flicker of dark hope ignited in his desperate chest. He grabbed his coat, threw his last twenty-dollar bill onto the table, and rushed out into the bustling New York streets.
