Chapter 7 - Confronting Eleanor Carter
The Carter estate in Winnetka sat behind towering wrought-iron gates, surrounded by acres of manicured lawns and towering oak trees that blocked out the rest of the world.
That Thursday evening, Sebastian’s Maybach didn't stop at the front gates; it plowed right through them as the automatic sensors recognized his vehicle registration, rolling up the gravel driveway with unstoppable momentum.
Inside the grand foyer, Eleanor Carter stood waiting, draped in cashmere and pearls, her posture as rigid as a Victorian portrait. Beside her stood Olivia, eyes red-rimmed from crying, clutching a glass of white wine as if it were a life raft.
"Sebastian, what is the meaning of this theatrical nonsense?" Eleanor demanded before the front door had even fully closed. "The press is having a field day with your little excursion this morning! Do you have any idea what this is doing to Carter Holdings stock?"
Sebastian didn't take off his coat. He walked past his mother as if she were a stranger, stepping into the expansive, mahogany-paneled drawing room where a roaring fire cast dancing shadows across the Persian rugs.
"Mother," Sebastian said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Sit down."
Eleanor scoffed, her chin rising defensively. "I will do no such thing in my own home. Olivia tells me you actually subjected yourself to a public paternity circus with that—"
"I said, sit down," Sebastian roared.
The command cracked through the vaulted ceiling like a whip. Eleanor flinched, her aristocratic poise cracking for the very first time in her life. Slowly, trembling with indignation, she lowered herself into an armchair.
Olivia shrank back against the bookshelf, setting her wineglass down with a sharp clink.
Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and tossed a thick manila folder onto the coffee table between them. It slid across the polished wood, stopping right at Eleanor’s knees.
"What is this?" Eleanor whispered.
"Audit logs from the corporate subsidiary accounts, Mom," Sebastian said, stepping closer and towering over her chair. "Dated exactly five years ago. Fifty thousand dollars transferred to Olivia’s offshore account. Accompanied by digital interception protocols that filtered every incoming email and phone message containing my name from a specific maternity ward in downtown Chicago."
Eleanor’s face turned the color of chalk. The pearls around her neck seemed to suddenly choke her as she grabbed her throat.
"Sebastian... where did you get this?" she stammered, her voice losing all its iron authority. "That's... that's corporate espionage. That's confidential—"
"It's proof," Sebastian interrupted, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "Proof that you and the woman you chose to replace my wife conspired to steal my family from me. You told me my babies died. You told me Hannah walked away. You lied to my face every single day for five years."
Olivia burst into hysterical tears, rushing forward. "Sebastian, please! I did it because I loved you! She wasn't right for your world! She was a nobody from Ohio who would have dragged you down—"
"Shut up, Olivia," Sebastian snapped, not even bothering to look at her. "Your wedding is canceled. Your employment contract with the Carter Foundation is terminated. And if you or my mother attempt to contact Hannah or my children ever again, I will personally see to it that both of you spend the next ten years defending yourselves against federal wire fraud and conspiracy charges."
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Eleanor slumped back in her chair, looking ten years older than she had a minute prior. "Sebastian... we are your family..."
"No," Sebastian said, turning his back on them both as he walked toward the double doors. "My family is currently eating macaroni and cheese in a North Side apartment. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure they never have to look at either of you again."
