Chapter 2: The Serpent’s Den
The next morning, Julian walked into the Thorne family estate. He was calm. He was composed. He played the part of the dutiful son perfectly. His mother, Beatrice, sat at the breakfast table, sipping tea with a smug, porcelain expression.
"You look tired, Julian," she said, not even looking up. "Did you finally handle the trash? I hear that girl is becoming quite a burden on your reputation."
Julian stood behind her chair. He didn't speak. He just looked at the silver tea service, his reflection distorted in the metal. "She’s not trash, Mother. She’s my wife."
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"She is an incubator," his father interjected from the head of the table, his voice booming with the arrogance of a man who owned half the city. "And once the heir is secured, we will ensure she disappears. The Thorne name cannot be sullied by her lack of pedigree."
They didn't see the look in Julian's eyes. They were too busy admiring their own reflection in the mirror of their wealth. They thought Julian was just like them—ruthless, cold, and calculated. They didn't realize that the man standing in their dining room had already transferred every single liquid asset of theirs into a private, untraceable trust.
