Chapter 5 - The Fall of Victoria
By noon, the news had shattered the financial world.
STERLING ENTERPRISES CEO FEIGNS PARALYSIS TO EXPOSE MILLION-DOLLAR CONSPIRACY. UNCLE AND BOARD MEMBERS ARRESTED IN ATTEMPTED MURDER PLOT.
The stock price didn't fall—it skyrocketed by fourteen percent in three hours. Wall Street loved a ruthless comeback.
While the corporate world spun into a frenzy, I was sitting in the back of my tinted Maybach outside the Manhattan Federal Courthouse. Vance was in the driver's seat.
Through the heavy rain, I watched the courthouse doors open.
Victoria stepped out, flanked by two high-priced defense attorneys. She looked unrecognizable. Her glamorous silver dress from last night had been replaced by a rumpled trench coat. Her blonde hair was soaked from the rain, clinging to her face, and her makeup was smeared in dark streaks down her cheeks.
Microphones and cameras rushed toward her like a swarm of locusts.
"Miss Vance! Did you know about the plot to poison Julian Sterling?" "Miss Vance! Is it true you were having an affair with Marcus Brody?" "Are you facing federal conspiracy charges?!"
Victoria shielded her face, sobbing hysterically as she tried to fight her way toward a waiting taxi. "Leave me alone! I didn't do anything wrong! I loved him! I loved Julian!"
I rolled down my window an inch, just enough for the cold wet air to flow in.
"Vance," I said.
"Sir?"
"Is the civil lawsuit filed?"
"Yes, Mr. Sterling," David Coleman spoke up from the front passenger seat. "We filed a emergency injunction freezing all of Victoria’s bank accounts, seizing her luxury apartment—which was bought with your credit line—and revoking her access to all Sterling family trusts. She is officially penniless."
I watched as Victoria tried to swipe her credit card to pay the taxi driver. The driver looked at his screen, shook his head, and locked the door, refusing to take her. She slammed her hand against the window, screaming in the pouring rain while news cameras captured every pathetic second.
She turned and saw my Maybach parked across the street.
Recognizing the dark windows, she broke away from her lawyers and ran through the downpour, soaking her clothes, until she reached my door. She hammered frantically against the bulletproof glass.
"Julian! Julian, please!" she screamed, her voice muffled through the glass. "Open the door! Please! I have nowhere to go! My parents disowned me this morning! The banks froze my cards!"
I slowly pressed the button to lower the window halfway.
Victoria’s hands grabbed the edge of the glass. Tears were streaming down her wet face, mixing with rain. "Julian, baby, look at me! I was scared! Marcus forced me! He threatened to ruin me if I didn't play along! You know I love you, please... just give me one more chance!"
I looked at her with pure indifference. There was no anger left in my heart—only absolute coldness.
"Do you remember what you whispered in my ear last night, Victoria?" I asked softly.
She blinked, trembling. "J-Julian..."
"You tapped your fingernail against my chair and said, 'You're nothing now—just a useless cripple.'"
"I didn't mean it! I was drunk!" she wailed.
"No, Victoria. You meant every word. You only love power, wealth, and status. And now, you have none of them."
"Julian, please! I'll do anything! I'll be your servant! Just don't destroy me!"
"You destroyed yourself the moment you mistook my silence for weakness," I said quietly.
I looked at Vance. "Drive."
May you like
"Julian! JULIAN!" she shrieked as the Maybach pulled away from the curb.
In the side mirror, I watched Victoria fall to her knees in the dirty city rainwater, weeping hysterically while a dozen photographers flashed pictures that would be on the front page of every tabloid tomorrow morning.
