Chapter 4 - The Sealed Medical Ledger of 2016
Victoria’s manicured fingers clawed frantically at the platinum clasp behind her neck.
Her acrylic nails broke against the metal, dropping small specks of crimson onto her custom gown as she tore the heavy necklace free from her throat.
She thrust the sapphires forward with trembling hands.
Julian didn't take them.
He glanced down at the shattered crystal on the floor.
“Drop them.”
Victoria choked on her own breath. “Julian... this necklace is worth two million dollars—”
“Drop them onto the floor where Elena was on her knees,” Julian commanded, his voice cold as a winter gale.
Victoria lowered her hands, her knees buckling until she sank into the puddle of spilled champagne, the sharp edges of the broken flutes biting through her lavender silk. She placed the two-million-dollar sapphire necklace directly into the wet glass, weeping in blind, suffocating humiliation before four hundred members of the society she had ruled since childhood.
Julian looked at his enforcer, Marco, who stood at the edge of the mezzanine.
“Call Dr. Elena Aris at Northwestern Memorial,” Julian ordered. “Have the private obstetrics transport brought to the pavilion entrance. If Elena feels a single contraction before she reaches the clinical suite, every executive at that catering agency will be cleaning the bilges of my freighters with a toothbrush.”
“Transport is already idling at the curb, Don Julian,” Marco replied with a respectful bow.
Leo stood up from the floor, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
He walked over to Elena, gently taking her arm, his touch filled with a fierce, protective reverence.
“Lean on me, Elena,” Leo whispered, his hazel eyes shining with absolute devotion. “Ten years ago, you took the pain so I could breathe. Tonight, my brother and I carry you.”
Elena leaned against the young man’s solid shoulder, her exhausted body finally yielding to the overwhelming wave of safety washing through her ribs.
Julian stepped beside her, his large, warm hand settling against the small of her back, supporting her weight with effortless strength as they moved toward the grand staircase.
As they reached the top of the marble steps, Arthur Sterling scrambled forward on his hands and knees, clutching the hem of Julian’s trousers.
“Julian! What about our alliance? What about the drydock merger?”
Julian paused.
He didn't turn around.
“The Sterling alliance is terminated, Arthur,” Julian said, his baritone booming through the vaulted rafters of the pavilion. “Your drydocks are condemned under emergency maritime receivership. Your bank notes are called as of midnight. And by Monday morning, your daughter will be serving coffee in the public terminal of the Chelsea ferry.”
May you like
The heavy bronze doors of the pavilion swung open, letting in the clean, crisp winter air of Boston Harbor, carrying Elena away from the shadows forever.
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