Chapter 1 - The Broken Balcony
The marble foyer still echoed with the phantom shriek of an infant plunging toward certain death. Mark stood rooted to the polished stone, his chest heaving as he held baby Leo tightly against his chest. His fingers dug into the soft cotton of the swaddling blanket, checking over and over for the steady, fragile rhythm of Leo’s heartbeat.
Only three feet away, Elena the maid remained on her knees. Her hands were bruised and raw from catching the child mid-air, a miraculous, bone-rattling save that had defied physics. Behind her stood Victoria in her shimmering champagne gown, trembling, her face completely drained of color.
""Mark, you have to believe me,"" Victoria stammered, taking a hesitant step down the curved staircase. ""My heel caught on the hem. I lost my balance. It was an accident—a horrible, tragic accident!""
""Shut your mouth,"" Mark said. The tone was devoid of human warmth.
Detective Vance stepped past the heavy oak doors, followed by two uniformed officers. The flashing red and blue lights outside cut through the stained-glass transom, casting jagged crimson stripes across Victoria’s face. Vance took the life insurance policy from Elena's shaking hands and glanced at the ceiling tablet offered by the head of security.
""Ten million dollars, taken out three days ago,"" Vance murmured, his eyes locking onto Victoria. ""Single beneficiary: Victoria Sterling. No mention of a trust. No mention of the father.""
""My mother handled those papers!"" Victoria shrieked, looking wildly around the room. ""Eleanor set up the family portfolio! She manages the accounts!""
Eleanor, who had remained silent near the grand piano, suddenly stepped forward, her tailored suit immaculate, her expression carved from granite. ""Do not drag me into your madness, Victoria. I told you never to sign unauthorized documents.""
Victoria froze, staring at her mother in utter disbelief. The woman who had planned every detail of this marriage was cutting her loose before the handcuffs were even drawn.
""Take her in,"" Vance ordered.
May you like
As the officers pulled Victoria toward the door, she clawed at the air, screaming Mark’s name. Mark didn't flinch. He turned his back on his wife and carried his son toward the private elevator. But as he stepped inside, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was an anonymous text message containing an audio file. Mark pressed play. A digitized voice crackled through the speaker: “You think Victoria is the mastermind, Mr. Vance? Check who signed Leo’s birth certificate while you were in London. You aren't his biological father.”
