Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Ring
Marcus stepped out of the server booth, his expression carved from granite. Victoria was attempting to slip down the hallway toward the private elevator, her diamond-encrusted clutch held tightly against her ribs.
""Stop right there, Victoria,"" Marcus said. His voice was dangerously soft, echoing off the high plaster ceilings.
She froze, turning slowly with a look of desperate indignation. ""Marcus, I was just going upstairs to check on—""
""I saw the tape."" Marcus didn't raise his voice, but the weight of the words pinned her against the wall. ""Every second of it. You pushed my son. You tried to break his neck on the marble.""
Victoria’s lips parted, trembling slightly. The mask of the polished, philanthropic socialite began to dissolve, revealing the cold calculations underneath. ""He’s a liar, Marcus! He has poisoned your mind against me since the day we married! He was going to inherit everything Clarissa left behind, leaving me with scraps if you ever decided to discard me!""
""So you decided to finish what you started two years ago?"" Marcus stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. ""The archive server just uploaded the footage of Clarissa's murder to an external server. From your device.""
Victoria’s eyes widened with genuine shock. ""What? No... that’s impossible! I don’t know anything about a server!""
""Don't lie to me!"" Marcus grabbed her wrist, twisting the clutch from her fingers. It hit the floor, spilling lipstick, a gold compact, and a small black hardware drive.
Marcus picked up the flash drive. On its casing was an engraved monogram: J.K.
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""Julian Kent,"" Marcus muttered. ""He wasn't your hired gun. He was your handler.""
Before Victoria could speak, the glass chandelier above them shattered into a thousand raining daggers. A high-caliber bullet ripped through the skylight, striking the marble floor inches from Marcus's feet.
