Chapter 10 - The Desperate International Search

Eighteen months after the divorce, Victor Reynolds had reached the absolute rock bottom of human existence.
Reynolds Engineering had filed for Chapter 7 liquidation bankruptcy.
The company’s heavy equipment had been auctioned on the courthouse steps for pennies on the dollar. The downtown penthouse had been seized by foreclosure marshals to satisfy the outstanding margin loans Victor had taken to impress Naomi.
Victor was now living in a run-down, two-bedroom rental apartment in suburban Petersburg, working as a mid-level code compliance inspector for forty-five thousand dollars a year—reporting to men who had once been his junior interns.
Every evening, after drinking himself into a stupor, Victor sat at his second-hand desk, searching the internet for any trace of Penelope and his daughters.
Every private investigator he hired hit a brick wall. The name Penelope Vance in the United States led to dead ends and sealed trust records.
Until one evening in late October, while browsing an international architectural trade journal, Victor’s eyes caught a full-page feature article:
“LADY PENELOPE VANCE UNVEILS TRIUMPHANT PARIS SUSTAINABILITY PAVILION: VANCE-THORNTON ARCHITECTS VALUED AT OVER £500 MILLION.”
Beneath the headline was a high-resolution photograph.
Standing in the center of the image was Penelope—stunning, radiant, wearing an elegant emerald-green evening dress, flanked by European dignitaries beneath the illuminated glass arches of the newly completed Paris pavilion.
And standing proudly beside her were two tall, beautiful young girls dressed in matching couture dresses: Abigail, now eleven, looking poised and regal, and Charlotte, now seven, smiling with pure, angelic joy.
Victor stared at the screen with shaking hands, tears spilling down his hollow, unshaven cheeks.
The wife he had called “plain and decorative” was an international architectural titan worth hundreds of millions.
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The daughters he had discarded as “useless burdens who couldn't carry the name” were being raised as royalty on the world’s most prestigious stages.
Victor reached for his worn leather wallet, pulled out his maxed-out credit card, and booked a one-way economy ticket to Paris.