Chapter 2 - Sins of the Estate
Julianna stared at the document, the blood draining from her manicured face. The official seal was unmistakable: the High Court of Geneva. Alexander had bypassed the entire domestic court system. Richard groaned amidst the splintered wood of the scroll cabinet, clutching broken ribs, coughing up crimson spit. Elena dropped the phone, dropping to her knees in pure panic.
“Mr. Vance, please! I only did what Mrs. Vance ordered!” Elena stammered, forehead pressing against the cold floor.
Alexander did not look down at the maid. He handed Lily to his personal bodyguard, Briggs, who had just stepped through the double doors accompanied by four armed operatives in discreet black suits. “Take Lily to the penthouse. Call Dr. Sterling to examine every inch of her skin. If there is a single bruise, inform me immediately.”
“Right away, sir,” Briggs replied solemnly, carrying the frightened child away into an armored SUV waiting outside.
Once the child was clear of the room, Alexander’s restraint vanished. He walked to the center of the hall, unbuttoning his navy cuffs. “Elena, pick up the phone.”
Elena scrambled to obey, holding the device with both shaking hands. “Show me the cloud backups,” Alexander demanded. She unlocked the screen, opening a private messaging group labeled The Inner Circle. Alexander scrolled with his thumb. There were photos of Lily locked in the cellar, bank transfers dated two days before Marcus’s car accident, and a text from Richard reading: The brake line is loose. The heir is history.
Alexander’s dark eyes turned pitch black. Richard struggled up against the wall, his smirk replaced by raw terror. “Uncle Alex, that wasn’t me! That phone is compromised!”
Julianna scrambled to her feet, stumbling on her broken high heel. “Alexander, listen to reason! You can’t prove anything! The police ruled Marcus’s crash an accident! You are an old man chasing ghosts!”
Alexander stepped in front of Richard. Without changing his expression, he grabbed Richard by the throat, hoisting him off the ground against the painted plaster wall. “An accident doesn't require five million dollars wired to an offshore mechanic in Belize,” Alexander whispered.
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Richard gasped for air, kicking wildly. “Wait... wait! I can tell you who paid the mechanic!”
Alexander tightened his grip, ignoring the plea, before throwing him onto the polished floor. “I already know who paid,” Alexander said coldly. “Now tell me why my son’s car was found empty.”
