Chapter 3 - The Inheritance of Deceit
The mention of Julian’s father sent a cold shiver down Elena’s spine. Arthur Vance was a man known for ruthless corporate takeovers and a smile that never reached his dead, gray eyes. He had paid for this very wedding, down to the last orchid and vintage bottle of wine.
"My father has nothing to do with this," Julian spat, wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "Elena, listen to me. Clara is unstable. She lost her job, she lost her mind, and she’s trying to ruin us because she couldn't stand seeing us happy."
Elena turned her gaze slowly from her husband to her sister, weighing every micro-expression, every hesitation. Clara wasn't acting like a heartbroken mistress looking for sympathy; she was acting like a cornered animal with a lethal secret.
"Unstable?" Elena whispered, her voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Is that why you transferred fifty thousand dollars from our joint account to her personal routing number yesterday morning?"
Julian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. The color drained entirely from his face, leaving him looking sickly under the warm chandeliers.
"That was... that was for the catering deposit," Julian stammered, his eyes darting wildly toward the exit. "The catering company only takes wire transfers."
"The catering was paid in full six months ago," a smooth, gravelly voice interrupted from the edge of the crowd.
Marcus Vance, Julian’s younger brother, stepped forward from the shadows of the arched doorway. He adjusted his cufflinks with agonizing slowness, a faint, sardonic smile playing on his lips. Marcus had always been the black sheep of the family, rarely attending family functions, let alone weddings.
"Nice try, big brother," Marcus said, his eyes locking onto Elena with a strange intensity. "The catering was paid by our father's corporate trust. That money you transferred went straight to a Swiss account registered under an offshore shell corporation."
Elena stared at Marcus, her mind racing to connect the pieces. "An offshore account? What are you talking about, Marcus?"
Marcus took another step onto the dance floor, ignoring Julian’s murderous glare.
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"I'm talking about the fact that this entire marriage wasn't a romance, Elena. It was a hostile corporate merger to steal your family's land."
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