Chapter 4

Donna’s POV

For the first time in years, the heavy weight of anxiety that constantly sat on my chest had vanished. I was free.

I stood by the windows, watching the first batch of delivery trucks make their way through the mountain road. 

All I had asked for was being delivered. I turned away from the glass and looked at Simon.

He was sitting peacefully, pointing at his books. That constant fear and tremble in his hands were no longer there. Back at the mansion, because he knew how Micheal and Angela hated him, he was always terrified of making a mistake. But here, he was finally allowed to breathe.

My tablet chimed with a message. It was a secure message from David, containing a link and one sentence.

“The board just voted. You own it all now. Tune in.”

I tapped the link with a smile on my face. The screen glowed with the bright lights of the arena from the auction. The camera feed was clear, David must have had one of his paparazzi minions do the recording.

The camera focused directly on the VIP table and there he was. Michael sat in the center, holding a glass of expensive wine, looking like the perfect, untouchable billionaire CEO.

Beside him sat Angela. She was clad in a beautiful gown, with the diamonds on her neck glowing and catching the attention of the camera lights. She leaned into Micheal, giggling and showing her fingers and constantly whispering in his ear.

I stared at the screen, my expression devoid of any emotion.

David did a pretty good job. The microphones were close to them and I could hear their conversation loud and clear.

"I heard Donna was naughty this morning," one of the women whispered, her eyes glowing with the thrill of gossip.

Angela rolled her eyes, scoffing as she took a sip of her champagne. "Oh, please. Donna is completely unhinged. She’s just a glorified maid that clings to Michael because she has absolutely nothing else in her pathetic life. He only keeps her around out of pity."

"But tonight, Michael promised to buy me the star of the auction to make up for her crazy behavior. He said I deserve the best."

I leaned against the chair, folding my hands.

Let's see how you get that best that you so deserve.

Now they're all basking in luxury like royalty. In ninety days from now, even a billion dollars wouldn't buy a single loaf of bread and those diamond necklaces will be useless.

Soon, the auctioneer stepped up to the podium. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the final item of the evening," the auctioneer announced, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "The Ocean’s Glory. The bidding will begin at two million dollars."

Before the crowd could even finish murmuring, Micheal called out immediately, not waiting for any other person to make a bid.

"Twenty million!" 

Ah! Twenty million. Cheeky boy!

He raised his hand proudly, lifting his head high as he turned to Angela with a smug smile. The crowd murmured in awe and the cameras flashed from all directions, capturing the CEO showering his beautiful date with wealth.

I watched the screen, waiting for it, the moment of truth.

An auction attendant approached their table, holding a silver platter with a payment terminal to verify the initial deposit required for the VIP bids.

Michael didn't even look at the man. He just reached into his jacket, pulled out his black card, and confidently swiped it through the machine.

Beep. Declined.

Oops! I couldn't help it and I giggled loudly like it was a comedy show.

Michael frowned. He pulled the card back, cleaning it against his thumb, and shoved it into the machine.

Beep. Declined.

"Sir," the attendant said. His voice was polite, but it echoed through the soft chatter of the room. "Your accounts have been frozen due to insufficient funds and pending legal action. I'm afraid I must ask you to surrender your bidding paddle."

Angela's smile vanished at once, the champagne glass slipped from her hand and shattered against the floor.

The composed Micheal was shattered already and he looked pale, trembling.

"What do you mean? Run it again," Michael hissed, his voice cracking. "That account holds fifty million dollars. Run the damn card again!"

"I cannot, sir. The bank has issued a freeze," the attendant replied, taking a step back as the guests at the table began to stare.

"Wait, declined?" one of the women at the table laughed loudly, covering her mouth. "I thought you were rolling in cash, Angela? Why come to a luxury auction and bid twenty million dollars if you're broke? What a shame! Poor things."

"Michael, what is going on? What is the meaning of this?" Angela demanded, her voice heavy with panic. 

“Pay them! Tell them it's a mistake! They're laughing at us!"

Before Michael could scream at the attendant, a man in a suit walked in, headed straight to his table and served him some papers.

"Michael Dupont," the man said loudly. "You have been served."

Michael stared at the envelope like it was a bomb. With trembling fingers, still trying to keep up appearance, he tore it open.

I watched through the feed as his eyes scanned the first page. His jaw literally dropped. He couldn't breathe.

"What is it?!" Angela panicked, snatching the papers out of his hands.

"Finalized Declaration of Divorce... and... and an Immediate Restraining Order?" She mumbled.

The murmurs in the room increased.

“Divorce? Restraining order?”

“Is that why he's with his stepsister?”

“What a disgusting homewrecker.”

But the divorce papers were just the first page.

Michael snatched it back, flipping to the second document. It was stamped with the seal of the board of directors.

"Effective immediately," Michael read slowly. "Due to the activation of the Reversion Clause and the subsequent loss of company patents... Michael Vance is hereby stripped of his title as Chief Executive Officer. All corporate assets, access, and capital are hereby seized by the board to reduce debt default."

He quickly turned to the third page, not wanting to believe his eyes. A bank seizure notice.

"The residential property... has been seized. Eviction is immediate."

He dropped the papers, staring into nothing as they scattered all over the place. 

He was poorer than the day he met me! How ironic life can be?

"Michael!" Angela screamed, bursting into tears. "What does this mean?! Where is your money? We have nowhere to live! Do you expect me to sleep in the streets? I can't live in some cheap apartment!"

"Shut up!" Michael yelled, and she flinched, the gentleman entirely gone. He grabbed her arm forcefully and dragged her violently out of the arena.

They ran out like pigs, just what they were and I had finally gotten the satisfaction I needed.

I reached forward and tapped the screen, closing the live feed and the silence of the fortress returned. 

A cold smile crossed my lips, but this was just the beginning. The real punishment was still ahead, when the flood would begin.

My phone vibrated, just as I expected.The caller ID was an unknown number, definitely from a burner phone, but I knew exactly who it was…

Micheal.