Chapter 2 - Beneath the Silk
The air inside the grand foyer of Blackwood Manor was suffocating. Victoria stood motionless near the grand staircase, her face pale beneath her heavy makeup. The fear that had briefly overtaken her outdoors was quickly twisting into a bitter, toxic fury.
"You're kicking me out?" Victoria sneered, her voice echoing up toward the chandelier. "For her? She’s an uneducated peasant, Marcus! She wears clothes from discount stores and talks to the groundskeepers! She is destroying the social standing I built for us!"
Marcus didn't waste a single breath arguing. He motioned to Maria, who was wrapped in a dry towel near the door. "Maria, please take my mother upstairs to my master suite. Run a hot bath, get her into dry flannel, and call Dr. Miller immediately."
"Right away, Mr. Vance," Maria said softly. She gently placed an arm around Eleanor, helping the frail woman stand.
Eleanor paused, looking up at her son with watery eyes. "Marcus... don't destroy your marriage over me. I can go back to the small house in Ohio. I don't want to cause trouble."
"You aren't causing trouble, Mom," Marcus said gently, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. "You're the reason I have anything at all. You will never spend another day feeling unwanted. Go upstairs."
Once Maria led Eleanor up the grand staircase, Marcus turned back to Victoria. The warmth in his eyes was entirely gone, replaced by the calculating coldness that had made him one of the most feared negotiators in the corporate world.
"You have fifty minutes left," Marcus said calmly, walking over to his mahogany desk near the study and pulling out a leather folder.
"You can't do this!" Victoria shrieked, following him, her high heels clicking aggressively against the marble floor. "We are married! Half of this house is mine! Half of Vance Enterprises is mine! If you throw me out, my father’s legal team will tear your life apart by tomorrow morning!"
Marcus threw the folder onto the table. It slid across the polished wood, stopping inches from Victoria's waist.
"Open it," Marcus commanded.
Victoria frowned, her eyes narrowing as she flipped open the thick document. As her eyes scanned the pages, the color drained completely from her face.
"What is this?" she whispered.
"That is a complete audit of your personal accounts for the past eighteen months," Marcus said, crossing his arms. "You thought I didn't notice the fifty thousand dollars transferred every month to an off-shore shell company? Or the 'consulting fees' you paid to your father's failing real estate firm using my corporate accounts?"
Victoria’s hands began to shake. "It... it was an investment—"
"It was embezzlement," Marcus interrupted coldly. "I kept quiet because I loved you. I thought if I gave you everything you wanted—the clothes, the cars, the social status—you would eventually treat me and my family with respect. But you mistook my patience for weakness."
He stepped closer, tapping a finger on the document. "If you leave quietly today, I will file for a simple, uncontested divorce. You get a modest settlement, your clothes, and your car. But if you fight me, if you say one bad word about my mother, or if you take five minutes longer than the hour I gave you, I hand this file to the federal prosecutors. You won't just be poor, Victoria. You'll be in prison."
Victoria stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The power dynamic had shifted entirely. The woman who had spent months lording over servants and terrorizing an elderly mother was now trapped in a cage of her own making.
"You're a monster," Victoria hissed, though there was no strength left in her voice.
"I'm a son," Marcus replied flatly. "Your hour is ticking."
Without another word, Victoria turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs toward her dressing room, her expensive silk gown rustling loudly in the quiet house.
Marcus took a deep breath, rubbing his temples as the adrenaline began to fade. But before he could head upstairs to check on his mother, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw the caller ID: Richard Sterling—Victoria's powerful, corrupt father.
Marcus answered, holding the phone to his ear.
"Marcus!" Richard’s booming voice barked through the speaker. "What is this nonsense my daughter is crying about? Have you lost your mind? You can't toss a Sterling out onto the driveway like trash!"
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"Richard," Marcus said smoothly, his tone devoid of emotion. "I suggest you check your company email in the next two minutes. I just sent your board of directors the evidence of the fraud you and Victoria committed. If you want to keep your company out of bankruptcy, I suggest you tell your daughter to pack faster."
Marcus hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, leaving the line dead.
