Chapter 7 - The Beggar at the Gate
While I was taking over the boardroom,
Carter Sterling was discovering the true cost of his arrogance.
He had been released from the Azores detention center after twenty-four hours of questioning.
But he had nowhere to go.
His credit cards had been declined at the hotel.
His private phone had been remotely wiped.
He arrived back in the city on a commercial flight,
sitting in the last row of economy,
smelling of stale sweat and desperation.
He took a taxi to our—to his—mansion,
the sprawling estate in the hills that he had bragged about in every interview.
But when the taxi reached the gates,
the code didn't work.
He stepped out of the car,
his suit wrinkled and his face covered in stubble,
and began to beat on the iron bars.
"Open the gate!"
he screamed at the security camera.
"It’s Carter!
Open the damn gate!"
A voice crackled over the intercom,
but it wasn't the usual friendly greeting from the house manager.
"Mr. Sterling,"
a cold,
unfamiliar voice said.
"This property has been seized as collateral by the Vance Trust.
You are no longer authorized to enter the premises."
"Seized?"
Carter gasped,
clinging to the bars.
"This is my home!
My mother is inside!"
"Your mother was escorted from the property two hours ago,"
the voice replied.
"Her personal belongings have been packed and sent to a storage facility.
The keys will be held until she pays the outstanding balance on her corporate-funded lifestyle."
Carter sank to his knees on the pavement.
The man who had once been on the cover of Forbes was now a beggar at his own front door.
Just then,
a black town car pulled up to the gate.
The window rolled down,
and his mother,
Beatrice,
looked out at him.
Her eyes were red from crying,
and she was clutching a small,
cheap suitcase.
"Carter!"
she wailed.
"They took my jewelry!
They took my furs!
They said they were 'proceeds of a crime'!"
"Mom,"
Carter whispered,
his voice breaking.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know!"
she sobbed.
"The driver said he was only paid to take me to a motel on the edge of town!
How could that woman do this to us?
After everything we did for her!"
"What did you do for me,
Beatrice?"
The voice didn't come from the intercom this time.
It came from a sleek,
white SUV that had pulled up behind the town car.
I stepped out,
looking impeccable in a navy blue silk dress.
I walked toward the gate,
not even glancing at Carter,
who was still on his knees.
I tapped my phone against a sensor,
and the gates swung open with a heavy,
mechanical groan.
"Samantha!"
Carter scrambled to his feet,
reaching for me.
"Samantha,
please!
We can talk about this!
I made a mistake!
Khloe meant nothing!"
I stopped and turned to him,
my expression one of mild curiosity,
as if I were looking at a strange insect.
"It’s not about Khloe,
Carter,"
I said,
my voice soft but lethal.
"It was never just about the cheating.
It was about the fact that you thought I was small.
You thought you could use my mind to build your world and then treat me like a footnote.
You thought you were the sun and I was just a planet reflecting your light."
"I love you,"
he begged,
tears streaming down his face.
"I’ll do anything.
I’ll fire everyone.
I’ll go to therapy.
Just don't take the company."
I laughed,
a short,
sharp sound that echoed off the stone walls.
"The company is already gone,
Carter.
The board resigned an hour ago.
The 'Apex' software has been pulled from the market.
By this time tomorrow,
'Sterling' will be a word associated with failure and fraud."
I leaned in closer,
so close he could smell my expensive perfume.
"You’re not a mogul,
Carter.
You’re a beautiful,
empty shell.
And I’m the one who finally cracked it."
I signaled to the security guards.
"Get them off the property,"
I said,
walking back to my car.
"And if they come back,
call the police for trespassing."
As I drove through the gates of my estate,
I looked in the rearview mirror.
I saw my husband and my mother-in-law standing in the dirt,
surrounded by the ruins of their vanity.
I didn't feel pity.
May you like
I didn't feel regret.
I felt like a woman who had finally cleared the weeds from her garden.
