Chapter 2 - THE STERLING NAME
The ambulance carried me through Manhattan beneath a ceiling of flashing white lights.
My father sat beside me.
He never released my hand.
The medic asked whether I felt safe returning home.
“No.”
The answer came easier than I expected.
“Do you have somewhere else to stay?”
My father answered before I could.
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
The old version of me would have objected.
She would have insisted that she could manage alone.
She would have mistaken isolation for strength.
That woman had remained on the marble floor with the orchids.
I did not need to protect her pride anymore.
At the hospital, nurses photographed every visible injury.
They documented the marks across my shoulder, thigh, arm, back, and face.
A doctor confirmed that my wrist was fractured.
My knee had severe ligament damage.
Several cuts required stitches.
The doctor explained everything slowly, as if using a calm voice might make the facts less horrifying.
My father stood near the window.
He did not move until the doctor finished.
Then he asked one question.
“Will she recover?”
“With time.”
“How much time?”
The doctor glanced at me.
“Physical recovery may take several months.”
He paused.
“The rest is different for everyone.”
My father nodded.
He understood what the doctor did not need to explain.
The body could heal before the room stopped returning in dreams.
Shortly after two in the morning, Detective Maya Chen entered my hospital room.
She wore a navy coat and carried a small recorder.
Her eyes were direct without being cold.
She asked whether I wanted my father present.
“Yes.”
She placed the recorder on the table.
Then I told her everything.
I described the first strike.
The broken vase.
Matthew’s words.
The twenty blows.
The way he complained about blood staining his shoe.
I expected my voice to fail.
It did not.
My father said nothing.
Only once did his breathing change.
It happened when I repeated Matthew’s words.
You are not a Sterling anymore.
Detective Chen looked toward my father.
He remained motionless.
When the interview ended, she promised that officers were searching for Matthew.
She also told me the penthouse had been sealed as a crime scene.
The cane had been collected.
The building’s hallway cameras were being reviewed.
After she left, I studied my father’s face.
“You knew about Lauren’s transfer.”
“I knew something was happening at NexusCore before you called.”
“Why?”
“Because Sterling Capital holds part of the company’s senior debt.”
I stared at him.
“Sterling Capital never invested in NexusCore.”
“Not under that name.”
He pulled a chair closer to the bed.
“Seven years ago, you asked several investors to meet Matthew.”
“I remember.”
“One of those investors was Northbridge Ventures.”
“Yes.”
“Northbridge was controlled by me.”
The monitor beside my bed continued beeping.
I watched the green line rise and fall.
“You secretly invested in Matthew.”
“No.”
My father’s eyes held mine.
“I invested in you.”
I turned away.
Anger moved through the pain.
“You said I was making a mistake.”
“I believed you were.”
“So you followed me anyway?”
“I protected the work you had already done.”
He explained that Northbridge’s first investment agreement included a founder contribution clause.
The clause identified the pitch materials, early client strategy, proprietary architecture, and investor network I had created before NexusCore was incorporated.
It also required board notification if any founder disputed ownership or if company money was transferred to an executive-controlled property.
“Matthew told me the first investors believed in him.”
“They believed in the company you helped build.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have refused the money.”
He was right.
That made me angrier.
I closed my eyes.
“What did you do after I called?”
“I contacted the bank’s risk officer.”
“And?”
“The forty-eight-million-dollar transfer was paused.”
He continued.
“I notified the board chair that a founder ownership dispute existed.”
“Elaine Park?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“I informed the company’s insurer that the chief executive was the subject of a violent felony investigation.”
I looked at the clock.
It was 2:41 in the morning.
Matthew had left me bleeding less than four hours earlier.
His credit line had been frozen.
His transfer had been stopped.
His board had been called into emergency session.
His company insurance was under review.
“You did all of that in five minutes?”
“No.”
My father’s expression hardened.
“I started it in five minutes.”
My hospital room door opened.
My mother stood outside.
The moment our eyes met, she covered her mouth with both hands.
Behind her, Detective Chen held up a phone sealed inside a clear evidence bag.
“We found Matthew Hayes.”
May you like
She paused.
“He was not alone.”
