Chapter 8 - Ultimatums Given By The Angry Bride
Jonathan stared at his wife, realizing with brutal clarity that she cared infinitely more about status than human compassion.
“It matters because your family built their entire corporate fortune on stolen lives and forged legal documents,” Jonathan said quietly.
“If you think I’m going to let some homeless peasant ruin our social standing, you have another thing coming, Jonathan,” she threatened.
“Choose your next words very carefully, Victoria, because I am in no mood to play your high-society games today,” he warned.
“Here is my ultimatum: you walk out that door right now, abandon that woman, and we fly to Paris tonight as planned,” she demanded.
“Or what?” Jonathan asked, taking a slow step toward her with a dangerous glint in his dark eyes.
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“Or I call my father, and we strip every single voting share you hold in Vance Global before the sun sets,” she hissed.
Jonathan let out a cold, humorless chuckle, shaking his head at the sheer arrogance radiating from her posture.
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