Chapter 6 - The Shadow in the Nursery
The heavy wooden front door closed with a distant thud, sealing Elena inside the sprawling mansion with Beatrice. The rain lashed against the expansive kitchen windows, drowning out the wails of the baby, who continued to squirm inside the swaddle. Elena pressed her back against the cool glass of the patio door, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped beast.
"You're insane," Elena whispered, her voice shaking with rage and terror. "Julian loves you. He built half of this estate for you. How could you frame your own son?"
Beatrice let out a dry, humorless chuckle, stepping toward the marble island where Julian’s phone still rested. "Julian is an investment, Elena. One that has reached its maturity date. My late husband made sure that upon the birth of a male heir, the entirety of the Sterling family trust would bypass Julian completely and transfer directly to the child—with me as the sole managing guardian until he turns twenty-five."
Elena felt the blood drain from her face. "The trust... you never cared about the baby. You cared about the legal control."
"Control is the only thing that lasts, my dear," Beatrice said coldly, picking up Julian's phone and turning it off, sliding it into her pocket. "Julian was becoming unpredictable. He began asking questions about his adoption records, hiring private investigators, digging into the past. He was going to unravel everything we built. If he is convicted of vehicular homicide, he is legally disqualified from acting as a guardian or trustee. Which leaves only me."
"He didn't drive that car," Elena hissed. "You did."
"Can you prove it?" Beatrice tilted her head, her smile razor-sharp. "The footage at the toll booth shows a driver in a white shirt. My driver, a rather desperate young man who owes me a significant sum, wore that shirt before abandoning the vehicle. By tomorrow morning, he will be on a freighter to South America. Julian has the key. Julian has the motive. And Julian has the white shirt."
Elena looked down at the infant in her arms. The baby's face was flushed, his tiny fists clenched against the swaddle. "And the woman who died? Who was she?"
Beatrice’s face hardened, the false composure cracking to reveal an ancient, festering hatred. "A ghost who should have stayed dead thirty years ago. A woman who thought she could walk into my home and demand a share of our empire simply because she carried Julian in her womb."
Elena gasped. "Julian's biological mother... you killed her."
"I merely removed an obstacle," Beatrice said smoothly, taking another step forward, her hand reaching out for the baby. "Now, give me the child, Elena. You look exhausted. It would be terrible if you had an accident on the stairs."
Elena looked Beatrice dead in the eye, clutching the newborn tighter against her sequined dress. "Over my dead body."
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"That can easily be arranged," Beatrice replied.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and died, plunging the entire estate into pitch-black darkness, accompanied by the shriek of the security alarm being tripped on the second floor.
