Chapter 12 - The Montgomery Reception
Three days after the confrontation on my porch, an engraved silver-embossed envelope arrived by private courier at my office.
Inside was an invitation to an exclusive private dinner at the Rainier Club in downtown Seattle: *An Evening Honoring the Forthcoming Union of Chloe Montgomery and Nathan Vance.*
At the bottom of the card was a handwritten note in sharp, slanting calligraphy: *“Ms. Lauren Vance—Your presence is requested by Arthur Montgomery. We have matters of mutual financial interest to discuss.”*
I called Richard Vance, my attorney and second cousin, who reviewed the invitation with a grim expression over a video call. "Arthur Montgomery is ruthless, Lauren," Richard warned. "He made his fortune squeezing mid-tier commercial landlords out of distressed assets during the 2008 crash. If Eleanor has crawled into bed with him, she’s playing with fire. But if you don't go, they will control the narrative unchallenged."
"I’m going," I said. "And I’m bringing our audited balance sheets."
The Rainier Club smelled of polished mahogany, aged Scotch, and inherited wealth. When I stepped into the private dining salon on the fourth floor, the room went quiet.
Chloe Montgomery stood near the stone fireplace—a blonde, slender woman dripping in platinum jewelry, laughing shrilly with two bridesmaids. Nathan stood beside her, sipping vintage champagne, looking like an imposter in a tuxedo that was noticeably tight around the shoulders. Eleanor was holding court near the bay window, drinking gin and speaking animatedly with an older man with silver hair, sharp eagle eyes, and an impeccably tailored Brioni suit: Arthur Montgomery.
As soon as Eleanor saw me, her glass froze halfway to her lips. She hadn't expected me to show up in a midnight-blue designer sheath dress, carrying a slender leather briefcase instead of an apology.
"Lauren!" Eleanor said loudly, rushing over to intercept me before I could reach the center of the room. "Darling, you actually made it! Look at you... I told Arthur you were working so hard at your little consulting firm."
"Good evening, Eleanor," I said, stepping past her outstretched arms without making contact.
Arthur Montgomery approached, his gaze sweeping over me with the clinical detachment of an appraiser evaluating distressed real estate. "So, you're the older sister," Arthur said, extending a hand bearing a heavy signet ring. "Nathan and your mother have spoken extensively about your... protective nature regarding family assets."
"I protect what I earned, Mr. Montgomery," I replied, shaking his hand firmly. "I don't believe in handing over unearned equity."
Nathan cleared his throat nervously, stepping between us. "Lauren, let's not talk business tonight. This is a celebration of me and Chloe."
"Actually, Nathan," Arthur Montgomery interjected, raising a hand that immediately silenced my brother. "Business is precisely why I invited your sister. Eleanor informed me that the Maplewood Court estate, along with the Fourth Avenue commercial parcel, was scheduled to be pooled into the Montgomery-Vance joint development venture as part of Chloe’s marriage settlement."
A suffocating silence descended on the salon. Chloe turned around, her manicured fingers resting on Nathan’s lapel. "Daddy said Nathan’s family had prime parcels downtown that would give our firm zoning leverage. That's why Daddy approved the engagement."
I looked at Nathan. His face had turned the color of curdled milk. Then I looked at Eleanor, whose throat was blotchy with red patches of panic.
She had lied to Arthur Montgomery. She had promised him my commercial building on Fourth Avenue and my house on Maplewood Court to buy Nathan entry into the billionaire class.
"Mr. Montgomery," I said, unzipping my leather portfolio and producing a crisp, blue-bound folder bearing the embossed seal of the King County Recorder of Deeds. "I believe there has been a catastrophic misrepresentation."
"Lauren, stop!" Eleanor hissed, lunging forward to grab the document.
"Step back, Eleanor," Arthur Montgomery ordered, his voice dropping into a register that made even the waitstaff freeze. He took the folder from my hands and flipped open the title certification.
"This is the deed for Maplewood Court," Arthur read aloud, his eyes scanning the certified legal descriptions. "Sole ownership: Lauren Vance. No secondary lienholders. No family trust encumbrance." He flipped the page. "And the Fourth Avenue commercial building... held in an irrevocable trust administered solely by Lauren Vance, with seventy percent of the commercial revenue allocated to Evelyn Vance’s healthcare and legal restitution."
Arthur stopped reading. He looked up, his icy gray eyes drilling straight into Nathan’s forehead.
"Restitution?" Arthur asked quietly. "What restitution, Nathan?"
Nathan opened his mouth, but only a dry gasp came out. Eleanor looked like she was about to faint against the marble mantle.
May you like
"Restitution for grand larceny and wire fraud," I answered calmly. "My brother owes two hundred and eighty thousand dollars to our grandmother's medical trust under a court-monitored garnishment order. If he told you he owns commercial assets, Mr. Montgomery, he committed fraud before your daughter even put on an engagement ring."
***
