Chapter 44 - Return to Manhattan
New York was shrouded in a relentless, freezing rain when our armored convoy pulled up to Sterling Tower on Madison Avenue. Flashbulbs exploded against the tinted glass of our SUV as dozens of financial reporters surged against the police barricades.
*“Claire! Is it true Arthur Sterling had a secret son?”*
*“Mrs. Sterling, have the shares been frozen by court order?”*
*“Who controls the board today?”*
Ethan stepped out first, his tall, imposing frame shielding me as security guards carved a path through the media frenzy. I wore an ivory tailored suit, my back ramrod straight, projecting the unflinching authority of a woman who had just brought down a global cartel.
As the gold-trimmed elevator doors opened on the penthouse executive floor, I didn't find an empty office.
Sitting behind my father’s mahogany desk, his feet casually propped on the polished surface, was Tristan Montgomery-Sterling. He wore a bespoke Savile Row three-piece suit, sipping vintage Scotch from Arthur’s crystal tumbler. Standing beside him was Martin Sterling, the disgraced uncle who had groveled for mercy only weeks prior, now puffing his chest out like a resurrected king.
"Welcome home, Claire," Tristan drawled, setting his glass down with an agonizingly slow click. "I must commend you. Evelyn made a dreadful mess of the Mediterranean assets, but your counter-strike was sheer poetry. You saved the family name from total ruin. Which makes handing it over to me so much sweeter."
"Get your feet off my father's desk," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register that made Martin flinch.
Tristan merely laughed, dropping his legs and leaning forward, resting his chin in his hands. "Your father? Legally speaking, little sister, the DNA test filed with the probate judge confirms ninety-nine point nine percent paternity. And according to the sealed codicil Arthur drew up in London, the eldest male heir holds ultimate proxy if the matriarch abdicates. Evelyn fled. That leaves me."
"That codicil is a forgery," Ethan stepped forward, his eyes blazing with cold menace. "Arthur would never sign over control to an estranged bastard backed by the very syndicate that tried to destroy him."
"Ah, the loyal husband," Tristan sneered, his eyes flicking dismissively over Ethan. "A glorified bodyguard playing corporate mogul. Don't speak out of turn, Ethan. The board reconvenes tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. The forensic handwriting experts have already authenticated Father’s signature on the primary deed. Unless you can produce the original master ledger from the Fifth Avenue underground vault—the one Arthur kept under biometric lock—I become Chairman by sunrise."
"And where do you think the ledger is, Tristan?" I asked coolly.
May you like
He smiled, a chilling, venomous grin. "I already have the vault surrounded, Claire. But neither of us can enter alone. Arthur designed the double-key mechanism, remember? You have one key. I have the other. Shall we go downstairs and see who Father truly loved most?"
***
