Chapter 5 - The Last Gift
Nathaniel did not run.
He walked.
Slowly, deliberately, his black tuxedo open at the collar, his dark eyes fixed on the splintered wood and torn paper scattered across his marble floor. Every step he took echoed like a drumbeat in the silent room. The crowd of three hundred guests parted before him like water, people scrambling backward to get out of his path.
When he reached the pink table, he didn't look at Victoria.
He dropped to his knees on the hard stone floor right beside Elena.
The billionaire whose name was whispered with awe in corporate boardrooms across the globe knelt in the dirt and wooden splinters, taking no care for his bespoke suit. He gently reached out and picked up the shattered wooden train engine.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Nathaniel whispered, his voice trembling with a raw, agonizing tenderness.
Lily peeked out from Elena’s neck, her small eyes swollen red, tears glittering on her eyelashes. “Mr. Nate... the train broke.”
“I’ll fix it,” Nathaniel promised, his thumb gently wiping a tear from the toddler’s soft cheek. “I promise you, sweet girl. I’ll fix everything.”
He stood up slowly.
When he turned to face Victoria, the tenderness in his face was completely erased. What remained was a man who looked capable of burning the world to the ground.
Victoria took an instinctive step backward, her emerald heels catching on the hem of her gown. “Nathaniel... darling... listen to me. She was making a scene! They were ruining our night! I was just establishing boundaries—”
“Silence,” Nathaniel said quietly.
The word cut through her excuses like a razor.
Victoria’s mouth snapped shut. Her jaw trembled.
Nathaniel did not raise his hands. He did not shout. He reached into his inner suit jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, rectangular silver box tied with a thick black velvet ribbon.
The Last Gift.
Victoria’s eyes locked onto the box, and a faint flicker of hope returned to her panicked mind. That was the box she had seen in his study earlier that afternoon. She had assumed it contained the forty-carat diamond necklace he had promised to present to his future bride during the engagement toast.
“Nathaniel...” Victoria stammered, forcing a soft, tearful smile onto her face. “You... you brought my gift out early?”
Nathaniel looked at the box in his hands. Then he looked at Victoria with eyes so cold they offered no mercy.
“This isn't for you, Victoria,” Nathaniel said flatly. “This was meant to be handed to you after the party. But I think now is a much better time.”
He untied the black velvet ribbon.
He didn't open a velvet ring case. He pulled out a thick stack of legal documents printed on white bond paper, stamped with the official seal of the United States Federal Prosecutor’s Office.
Victoria’s face went from pale to ghostly white.
“What... what is that?” she whispered, her voice barely a squeak.
“Three weeks ago,” Nathaniel said, his voice echoing clearly across the ballroom so every guest, reporter, and investor could hear, “you moved into my home under the pretense of planning our marriage. But you didn't spend your time planning a wedding, Victoria.”
He stepped closer to her, holding up the documents.
“You spent your time accessing my private terminal in the east study. You used my personal credentials to transfer four million dollars from the Whitfield Charitable Foundation into an offshore shell account in the Cayman Islands to cover your father’s fraudulent real estate debts.”
A massive wave of gasps erupted through the crowd.
Arthur Hale gasped, clutching his chest, sinking into a nearby chair as his face turned the color of ash.
“No!” Victoria shrieked, panic clawing at her throat. “That’s a lie! Someone framed me! It was the maid! Elena must have stolen your passwords!”
“Elena doesn't have access to my study,” Nathaniel said coldly. “And unlike you, Elena Carter possesses something your family lost years ago. Integrity.”
He turned to the fourth page of the document.
“My forensic tech team logged every keystroke,” Nathaniel continued, his voice unrelenting. “They recorded you uploading my company’s proprietary patents to a buyer in Dubai yesterday afternoon. You didn't want a husband, Victoria. You wanted a corpse to bleed dry.”
Victoria began to shake violently. The emerald gown that had made her look like a queen now looked like a trap. The three hundred guests who had praised her ten minutes ago were now staring at her with disgust, pulling away from her as if she carried a deadly disease.
Nathaniel reached into his pocket one last time.
He pulled out a small, plush velvet box.
May you like
He didn't open it. He simply flipped it in his hand and dropped it onto the floor at Victoria’s feet—right next to the crushed birthday sweater and the splintered wooden train.
“The engagement is over,” Nathaniel declared, his voice ringing with absolute finality. “Take your ring. Take your father. And get off my property before the federal marshals arrive to arrest you.”
