Chapter 5 - THE COLD WIPE
Victoria slowly stood up from her high-backed golden throne, towering over the men who had plotted her corporate assassination.
Her emerald green pantsuit rustled with authority as she stepped down the dais toward the center of the ballroom.
She raised a manicured hand, using her thumb to calmly wipe the streak of blood from her lip.
She stared at the crimson smudge on her skin with clinical detachment before letting her gaze fall back onto Julian.
The ballroom fell into a terrifying, breathless silence, broken only by the low, heavy thud of a distant heartbeat sound effect.
Hushed gasps rippled through the lingering guests who had stayed to watch the public humiliation of the Vance dynasty.
Julian opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out as he stared into the chilling abyss of Victoria's eyes.
"You thought a slap would break me, Julian?" Victoria asked, her voice dangerously soft yet cutting like shattered glass.
"You thought you could stage a boardroom coup while playing house with a cheap mistress in broad daylight?" she continued, stepping closer.
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Julian tried to puff out his chest, but his knees trembled under the crushing weight of his sudden irrelevance.
"Victoria, let's not be hasty... we can talk about this in the office tomorrow," Julian stammered, his voice cracking with desperation.
