Chapter 95
Serena
He just stood there, blinking at me like I'd told him the basement was full of actual gold bars instead of neglected art.
"But how?" he finally managed. "How did you—I've been trying to sell these pieces for over a year. We had three different appraisers come through. They all said the same thing: damaged goods, questionable provenance, maybe two hundred thousand if we were lucky. And you just—" he gestured helplessly at the sorted collection, "—you just looked at them and—"
"The condition is better than I expected," I said, brushing dust off my blazer. "Most of the damage is superficial. Poor storage, yes, but nothing that significantly impacts value to serious collectors. This is the fair market price, Grayson. It always was. You just had the wrong appraisers."
Or appraisers who knew they could lowball a desperate, failing company and get away with it.
"But even if the pieces are worth that much," Grayson said slowly, his business mind clearly catching up, "we still have the fundamental problem. The one that's been killing us for two years."
"Buyers," I said.
"Exactly." He ran a hand through his white hair. "Reputation in this industry is everything. And your father's reputation is... well. It's not good. Most serious collectors won't even take our calls anymore. The few who do are looking to exploit our desperation. They know we're dying, so they offer pennies on the dollar and expect us to be grateful."
I nodded, already pulling out my phone. "Which is why I'm very glad this company doesn't belong to my father anymore. It belongs to me. And I'm going to make sure everyone in this industry knows it."
Grayson's eyes widened. "You're going to rebrand."
"Completely." I started scrolling through my contacts. "Vance Heritage under new management. Associated with Peter Vance's legacy and his granddaughter—not Richard Vance's failures. Grayson, I need you to start putting out feelers. Quietly at first. Let people know there's been a change in ownership. That we're under different leadership now."
"Smart," Grayson breathed. "Very smart. Build a new reputation from scratch rather than trying to salvage the old one." He looked at me with something like awe. "You really do know what you're doing."
"Well," I said absently, already composing a message, "I just asked myself what my grandfather would have done—and did exactly that. Turns out, I also have a very good contact."
Dr. Harrison. The man who'd been so kind at the gallery event. Who'd given me his card and told me to reach out if I ever needed anything.
Time to see if he'd meant it.
Me: Dr. Harrison, this is Serena Vance. We met at the Grey Estate acquisition presentation. I hope I'm not bothering you, but I have a business proposition that might interest you. I've recently acquired Vance Heritage (my grandfather's company) and we have several authenticated pieces available for sale. Would you happen to know any serious collectors who might be interested? I've attached our current inventory with condition notes and provenance.
I took quick photos of the sorted pieces, making sure to capture the best angles, then attached them to the message and hit send.
"There," I said. "Now we wait and—"
My phone buzzed immediately.
I looked down, shocked. That was fast. Maybe he was just acknowledging receipt—
Dr. Harrison: Miss Vance! What impeccable timing! I was just thinking about you this morning. Wondering how your presentation went. (Brilliantly, I'm sure.) And now you're telling me you've acquired your grandfather's company? Congratulations!
Dr. Harrison: As for the pieces—my dear, if YOU are personally vetting and selling these items, I would be honored to purchase them myself. The Morgan Library has been looking to expand our collection, and these would fit beautifully.
Dr. Harrison: In fact, I'll take the entire lot. All of it.
I stared at the screen. Then read the message again. Then a third time.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
"What?" Grayson was at my shoulder immediately. "What is it? Bad news?"
I held up the phone, showing him the messages. His eyes went wide.
"He wants to buy everything? Just like that? Without even—"
Another message appeared.
Dr. Harrison: Forgive my enthusiasm! I should ask about price. But honestly, Miss Vance, if your assessment is involved, I trust the valuation completely. Whatever you've determined as fair market value, I'm prepared to pay.
Dr. Harrison: More importantly, I'd love to establish a relationship here. You're exactly the kind of fresh talent this industry needs. Someone with actual expertise who isn't just chasing trends or big names. I can come by this afternoon to collect the pieces and transfer payment. Would 3 PM work? I'm quite eager to meet you properly and discuss potential future collaborations!
I dropped my phone on the workbench, my hands suddenly shaking.
"Miss Vance?" Grayson sounded concerned. "Are you alright?"
"He's coming this afternoon," I managed. "With payment. For all of it. At the price we determined." I looked up at Grayson. "He didn't even negotiate."
"Who is this Dr. Harrison exactly?" Grayson picked up my phone, scrolling through the messages with increasing disbelief. "Because these prices—six point two million—that's not exactly pocket change for most—"
He stopped mid-sentence. Went very still. Then looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Dr. Harrison," he said slowly. "Edmund Harrison? Director of the Morgan Library? The Dr. Harrison?"