Chapter 4 - The Grip of Judgement
Julian did not squeeze her throat enough to cut off her breath entirely, but his fingers were an unbreakable iron vise, pinning Vanessa directly against the shuddering panoramic window. Fifty stories below them, the city sprawled like a cluster of miniature toy lights. Vanessa clawed frantically at his arm, her manicured nails digging into his flesh, but he didn't even flinch.
"Look at me, Vanessa," Julian commanded, his voice horrifyingly serene.
Her hazel eyes bulged with genuine, primal terror. For three years, she had perceived Julian Vance as a calculated, polite tycoon—a man obsessed with numbers, balance sheets, and boardroom politics. She had completely forgotten that Julian had built his dynasty out of the ruthless, blood-soaked ruins of a hostile shipping syndicate.
"You touched the only piece of my soul that remained clean," Julian said, his eyes drilling into hers. "You struck my flesh and blood. You locked him in the dark while you spent my fortunes. Did you think my love for you made me blind? Or did you merely think I was weak?"
"J-Julian... please..." she choked out, her heels kicking uselessly against the glass. "I... I lost my temper... he didn't listen to me... he was always crying for his dead mother... he made me crazy!"
Julian leaned closer, until his lips brushed her ear. "His mother gave her life to bring him into this world. You couldn't even give him basic humanity. You are an infection. And I am about to excise you."
He released his grip abruptly. Vanessa dropped to the floor in a pathetic, coughing heap, clutching her bruised neck and gasping for air.
"Ronald," Julian said, taking a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his fingers with clinical detachment. "Take her phones, her passports, her keys, and every piece of jewelry purchased with Vance capital. Strip her of all access cards. Escort her down through the freight elevator and deposit her on the sidewalk."
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Vanessa scrambled to her knees, coughing violently. "You can't do this! I have rights! I’m your wife! Half of this penthouse is mine! I will sue you for every dime, Julian! I'll tell the media everything!"
Julian paused at the threshold, not even deigning to look back. "By eight o'clock tomorrow morning, Vanessa, you won't even have an identity, let alone an attorney. Ronald, call forensic recovery. I want every single scrubbed video byte restored. Even the ones she thought were burned."
