Chapter 3: The Ivory Vengeance
Downstairs, Victoria was not packing. Instead, she was tearing the study apart, hurling crystal decanters and antique books against the walls in a blind rage.
She had dialed her father—a powerful corporate rival to the Sterlings—demanding he send security forces to the estate. But Julian had already anticipated her move. The estate’s gates were locked, the private security detail completely replaced by Julian’s most trusted personal guards.
When Julian stepped into the study, the air grew instantly freezing.
“You’re making a monumental mistake, Julian!” Victoria shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at him. “My family will ruin you! You think you can throw me out for a pregnant rat? The press will devour you. The board will strip you of your title!”
Julian walked slowly to his desk, his face an unreadable mask of calm that terrified her far more than his earlier screaming. He pressed a button on his intercom.
“Marcus,” Julian addressed his head of security. “Are the police at the gate?”
“Yes, sir. Two squads, waiting on your command.”
Victoria froze. “Police? For what? A domestic squabble?”
“For kidnapping, false imprisonment, forgery, and attempted manslaughter,” Julian listed calmly, opening a drawer and pulling out a thick folder. “Did you really think I built a billion-dollar empire by being stupid, Victoria? The moment I found out Clara was in the cellar, I had my tech team sweep your communications.”
Victoria’s confident sneer faltered. She took a step back.
“I have the wire transfers to the private thugs you hired,” Julian continued relentlessly, tossing the papers onto the desk. “I have the forged medical records with your signature on the courier logs. And I have the security footage from the cellar that you thought you had deleted. You didn't just lock her away; you intentionally deprived a pregnant woman of proper medical care. You tried to murder my heir.”
“She’s nothing!” Victoria screamed, her composure shattering into a million desperate pieces. “I am your equal! I belong in this world! She is dirt under our shoes!”
“She is my world,” Julian fired back, his voice booming with the authority of an emperor. “And you are going to prison.”
Realizing she had lost everything, Victoria’s eyes darted around the room. In a final, desperate act of malice, she grabbed a heavy brass letter opener from the desk and lunged, not at Julian, but toward the door—toward the stairs leading to the master suite.
“If I can’t have this life, neither will that little tramp!” she shrieked.
But Julian was faster. He tackled her to the ground, pinning her wrist to the floor until she dropped the brass weapon with a clatter.
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“Let her in, Marcus,” Julian barked into his earpiece.
Within seconds, the study doors burst open, and four police officers flooded the room, dragging a screaming, thrashing Victoria to her feet and slapping cold steel cuffs onto her wrists.
