He took his mistress to a 5-star hotel, but was utterly surprised when his wife, the NEW owner, walked in.
Chapter 1: The Glamorous Adulterer
A dazzling orange McLaren 720S tore through the November rain of New York, stopping in front of The Vanguard Hotel. It was the new symbol of luxury in Tribeca, where a single night’s stay could cost a year’s salary for the working class.
Richard Sterling, 42, CEO of Sterling Ventures, stepped out of the car. He adjusted his Tom Ford suit, taking a deep breath of the scent of money and power.
From the passenger seat, Jessica emerged. The 24-year-old model with her long legs and daringly slit dress was Richard’s latest “reward” after his successful deals (and shady money laundering schemes).
“Oh, Richard, this place is beautiful!” Jessica exclaimed, clinging tightly to his arm.
“Of course, darling,” Richard smirked, tossing the car keys to the Valet employee without even looking at him. “I promised you the best. My wife—that boring Elena—thinks I’m at a meeting in London. We have the whole weekend.”
Richard entered the main lobby. He went straight to the VIP check-in counter, where there was no line.
“Good evening, Mr. Sterling,” the lobby manager, a Frenchman named Henri, bowed. But Richard sensed something strange. Henri’s smile wasn’t the usual subservient one. It was… sharper.
“The Presidential Suite,” Richard placed his Black Card credit card on the marble countertop. “As reserved.”
Henri took the card. He didn’t swipe it immediately. He looked at Richard, then at Jessica, his eyes showing a fleeting mix of pity and mockery.
“Sir, we’ve upgraded your room to Owner’s Tier by special order,” Henri said.
“Owner’s Tier?” Richard raised an eyebrow, pleased. “Excellent. Probably because I’m a regular customer. Bring the Champagne up to the room immediately. Dom Pérignon 1998.”
“Yes, sir.”
Richard pulled Jessica into his private elevator. He felt like the king of the world. He had money, power, a hot mistress, and a foolish wife at home who only knew how to do charity work and tend to her plants.
He didn’t know that this elevator wasn’t taking him to heaven. It was taking him straight into a lion’s den.
Chapter 2: The Room of Truth
The elevator doors opened directly into the living room of the penthouse. The 400-square-meter room, surrounded by tempered glass, offered a panoramic view of the dazzling Manhattan skyline.
On the table sat a chilled bottle of Champagne.
But there was something strange.
There were three crystal glasses on the table.
“Wow, they’re so thoughtful, they must be afraid I’d break something,” Jessica giggled, running out onto the balcony to take Instagram photos.
Richard loosened his tie and poured himself a drink. He felt incredibly elated. He was basking in his victory after secretly transferring $10 million from their joint account to an offshore Cayman Islands account this morning. He planned to divorce Elena next month, leaving her penniless.
“Cheers, my love,” Richard called.
Suddenly, the sound of high heels clicking on the wooden floor echoed from the master bedroom. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Slow. Firm. Powerful.
Richard froze. “Room service?” he snapped. “I told you not to disturb!”
The bedroom door opened.
A woman stepped out.
She wasn’t wearing her staff uniform. She wore an ivory-white Yves Saint Laurent jumpsuit, perfectly tailored to accentuate her slender yet powerful figure. Her chestnut brown hair was styled in an updo, revealing a face with subtle yet sharp makeup.
Richard dropped his glass of wine. Crash!
Jessica turned around, shouting, “Who are you? How dare you enter our room?”
The woman didn’t look at Jessica. She stared directly into Richard’s eyes, a cold smile playing on her lips, colder than the ice in the wine bucket.
“Good evening, Richard,” she said. “And hello, Jessica. I’ve been waiting for you two.”
“Elena?” Richard stammered, his face drained of color. “What… what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at your mother’s house, aren’t you?”
“Do you think so?” Elena stepped forward, picked up a third glass of wine, and lightly swirled it.
“Get out!” Richard yelled, trying to regain his composure to mask his fear. “You’re trespassing! I’ll call security to kick you out!”
Elena laughed. Her laughter echoed through the large room, devoid of the misery of a betrayed wife.
“Call, Richard,” she challenged. “Pick up the phone and call Henri.”
Richard rushed to the desk phone and pressed 0.
“Henri! There’s a crazy woman in my room! Send someone to drag her out immediately!”
Henri’s voice came through the speakerphone, calm and respectful:
“Mr. Sterling, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why? Do you know who I am? I’m a VIP!”
“Yes, but that woman… Mrs. Elena Vance…” Henri paused. “…She’s the new owner of The Vanguard.”
Chapter 3: The Parasite’s Twist
Richard stood frozen, his hand holding the receiver suspended in mid-air.
“W-what?”
Jessica’s jaw dropped. “The owner? You mean… she bought this hotel?”
Elena set down her glass of wine. She walked over to the armchair.
She sat down, legs crossed, her posture like a queen looking down on her rebellious subjects.
“Richard,” Elena said. “You always thought I was a useless housewife, living off your salary, didn’t you? You thought I spent all day at the spa and shopping?”
“Where did you get the money?” Richard hissed. “Your account only has a few thousand dollars in my allowance!”
“That’s the account you know,” Elena corrected him.
“Have you forgotten who I was before we married?”
Richard frowned. He vaguely remembered Elena working in finance, but he always assumed it was a lowly secretary position.
“I’m Elena ‘The Shark’ Vance,” she said. “Head of Mergers and Acquisitions (M&A) at Goldman Sachs. I didn’t quit to live off you. I quit to run my own private equity fund – Vance Capital.”
Richard recoiled, bumping into the edge of the table. Vance Capital? That was the name that had been making waves in the New York real estate market for the past two years. He had tried to arrange a meeting with the CEO of that fund to raise capital, but had always been refused.
It turned out that the CEO slept right next to him every night.
“This morning,” Elena continued, her voice even, as if reading an indictment. “While you were busy transferring $10 million in embezzled funds from the company into Cayman’s account to prepare to flee with this woman…”
Jessica’s face turned pale. She looked at Richard. “You… you embezzled? You said you were the chairman?”
“…I completed the acquisition of 100% of The Vanguard’s shares from the struggling former owner. The transaction value: $150 million. Cash.”
Elena stood up and walked over to Richard.
“This hotel is mine. This room is mine. And the staff downstairs… they get paid by me.”
“You…” Richard trembled. “You knew everything?”
“I knew you were having an affair two years ago,” Elena said. “I knew you were laundering money. I knew you were planning to trick me into signing fictitious loans before the divorce. I kept quiet, Richard. I kept quiet to gather enough evidence.”
She threw a thick stack of files onto the table.
“This is evidence of your tax fraud, money laundering, and forgery. And this,” she pointed to Jessica, “is evidence of your affair to ensure you left empty-handed according to the prenuptial agreement.”
Chapter 4: The End of the Party
Richard collapsed. He knelt on the velvet-carpeted floor, clutching his head. He realized he wasn’t the old wolf. He was just an arrogant lamb who had willingly walked into the mouth of a tyrannical dinosaur.
Seeing the situation, Jessica immediately let go of Richard’s hand and stepped back. “I… I don’t know anything! He said he was single! He lied to me!”
“Shut up,” Elena said coldly, not even looking at her. “You’re not innocent either, Jessica. You know he’s married. And you know he’s using dirty money to buy you Hermes bags. But I don’t care about you. You can leave.”
Jessica hastily grabbed her bag and ran out of the elevator like a madwoman, leaving her “true love” kneeling on the floor.
Only Elena and Richard remained.
“Elena… my wife…” Richard looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks, trying to play the role of a remorseful husband. “I was wrong. I was possessed by a demon. Forgive me. We can start over. You’re so rich… we’ll be the most powerful couple in New York.”
Elena looked at him. Her eyes held no hatred, only utter contempt.
“Don’t you understand, Richard? I didn’t buy this hotel to do business. I bought it… to get rid of you.”
“What?”
“I wanted this moment,” Elena held out her arms. “I wanted to see your face when you realized you were standing in my territory, and you were completely powerless. I wanted you to understand that the woman you despised, the woman you intended to discard… had actually controlled your destiny for a long time.”
Elena pulled out her phone.
“Security, come up here.”
Two large men in black suits entered the room.
“Throw him out,” Elena ordered.
“Elena! You can’t do that! This is a 5-star hotel! I’m a guest!”
“You’re not a guest,” Elena said, turning her back and walking out onto the balcony to look down at the city. “You’re an illegal intruder. And your credit card… I reported it stolen and fraudulent. It’s been blocked for 15 minutes already.”
Richard was grabbed by two security guards and dragged out the door.
“And Richard,” Elena called after him.
He turned back, hoping for a little pity.
“Don’t go home,” she said. “The police and the FBI are waiting for you there. They’re very interested in the $10 million Cayman case file.”
The door slammed shut.
Chapter End: The Queen in Ivory Tower
Elena stood alone on the breezy balcony. Below, Richard’s orange McLaren was being towed away by a police crane. She watched Richard being handcuffed and pushed into a patrol car. Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the windows of The Vanguard.
She raised her Champagne glass and took a sip. The sweetness of victory mingled with the bitterness of a marriage long dead.
She had loved him. She had once stepped back to let him shine. But he had used that light to burn her.
Now, she didn’t need anyone to shine for her anymore. She was the light herself.
Her phone rang…
A message from Henri:
“Madam, would you like to keep the hotel’s name, The Vanguard?”
Elena smiled. She replied:
“No. Rename it The Phoenix. Because today, something has died, and something more brilliant has been reborn from the ashes.”
She turned back inside, leaving the New York night behind. Tomorrow would be a busy day. She had an empire to run, and no more bad men in her way.
