Chapter 3 - The Stolen Inheritance
Evelyn’s manicured fingers grazed the cold surface of the silver family crest pendant, but before she could yank it away, Julian’s hand shot out like a striking viper, wrapping around her wrist in a bruising, iron grip. The sharp gasp that escaped Evelyn’s throat was swallowed entirely by the tense acoustics of the grand hall.
"Don't you dare touch it," Julian warned, his voice a low, lethal growl that sent a visible shiver down Evelyn’s spine.
The guests closest to the altar pressed backward in unison, realizing they were standing on the edge of an erupting financial and social volcano. The Vance family fortune was not merely a matter of high-society gossip; it was a sprawling, ruthless empire of real estate, shipping lanes, and heavy industry currently controlled with an iron fist by Julian's ailing, tyrannical grandfather, Arthur Vance. If Clara and the infant were truly legitimate heirs to that dynasty, every prenuptial agreement, corporate merger, and inheritance document signed over the past decade was instantly rendered legally void.
"Julian, you are making a catastrophic mistake!" Evelyn shrieked, finally wrenching her wrist free and rubbing the angry red mark left behind by his grip. "We have three hundred elite guests watching this absolute circus! Call the police and have these frauds thrown in a cell where they belong!"
Julian ignored her completely. His eyes remained locked on the silver pendant, his thumb tracing the familiar, raised ridges of the lion crest. He knew every microscopic detail of this artifact. Only three identical pendants had ever been forged by the family silversmith in Zurich twenty-five years ago—one for himself, one for his rebellious younger brother Thomas who had mysteriously vanished six years ago, and one held exclusively by Arthur Vance in the master vault.
"Where did you get this, Clara?" Julian asked softly, softening his tone as he reached out to gently brush a strand of dusty hair away from the little girl's tear-streaked face.
"From Mom's bedside table," Clara whispered, her big, fearful eyes searching his face for any sign of safety. "Before she closed her eyes and stopped breathing, she told me to run through the woods. She said grandfather’s men were coming to take baby Leo away because he's the true firstborn grandson."
The entire ballroom went dead silent. The words "true firstborn grandson" echoed through the high vaulted ceilings, landing like physical blows upon Evelyn and her father, industrial tycoon Richard Sinclair, who was now pushing his way through the front row of terrified guests.
"This is a complete fabrication!" Richard Sinclair roared, his face purple with rage as he inserted himself between Julian and the children. "Julian, you are the sole heir to the Vance enterprise! My daughter is marrying the billionaire owner, not some street urchin bearing stolen trinkets!"
Julian slowly stood up to his full height, towering over his furious future father-in-law with an expression so devoid of emotion that it made Richard step back involuntarily.
"Be quiet, Richard," Julian commanded quietly.
May you like
He turned his gaze back to Clara, who clutched the baby tighter to her chest as a pair of dark, unmarked black sedans suddenly screeched to a halt outside the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the wedding hall.
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