Chapter 7 - The Grand Regency
The Presidential Suite of the Grand Regency Hotel was bathed in the warm, seductive glow of modern sconces. Victoria sat on an ivory velvet chaise lounge, sipping vintage champagne from a flute, her bare feet tucked underneath her. Her evening gown had been replaced by an expensive cashmere robe. On the glass coffee table before her sat an open laptop displaying a bank verification screen that blinked with pending offshore transfers.
She tapped her manicured nails against the glass, her phone pressed to her ear.
""Gregory, the gala was a mess, but the story is already circulating,"" she said into the receiver, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. ""Julian made a scene. Tomorrow morning, every tabloid will run headlines that Lily is a kleptomaniac and emotionally deranged. Arthur has the petition drafted.""
""Arthur is dead,"" a voice replied from the doorway.
Victoria froze. Her phone slipped from her hand, hitting the deep carpet with a soft thud.
Julian stood inside the suite, the heavy double doors closed behind him. He hadn't bothered to knock; the hotel master override in Marcus's hands had seen to that. His tuxedo was stained with rain and soot, his tie loosened, and his eyes were hollowed by cold, unadulterated hatred.
""J-Julian..."" Victoria stammered, scrambling backward onto the chaise, pulling her robe tightly around her throat. ""How did you get in here? The guards—""
""Your guards are unconscious in the hallway,"" Julian said calmly, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. The rhythmic click of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor sounded like a funeral drum. ""And Arthur isn't dead yet, though your associates tried their best. He survived the blow to his skull. And he talks quite freely when his life is on the line.""
Victoria’s breath hitched. She looked toward her laptop, then toward the adjoining bedroom door, but there was nowhere to run. ""Julian, listen to me. I had to! Gregory threatened me! He held my family’s debts over my head! I never wanted to hurt the children—""
""You slapped my daughter,"" Julian interrupted, his voice a low, terrifying growl. ""You bruised her arm. You tried to send her into a cage so you could steal the money Clara bled for.""
Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out the diamond floral necklace. He held it up, letting the brilliant stones sway gently between them.
""You wanted this, didn't you?"" Julian asked, tossing the heavy jewels onto the coffee table. They struck the champagne flute, shattering it and spilling amber liquid across the glowing laptop screen.
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Victoria flinched, tears of genuine terror streaming down her cheeks. ""What are you going to do to me?""
""You're going to call Gregory,"" Julian said, placing his own phone on the table. ""You're going to tell him the children are dead, and that you have the trust authorization codes. And you are going to tell him to meet you at the pier.""
