Chapter 3: The Price of Silence
The heavy silence that followed Julian’s command was broken only by the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the ballroom. Victoria scoffed again, though she pulled back slightly from Julian’s imposing stance. She smoothed the front of her ruined wedding dress with trembling hands, desperate to regain a fraction of the composure she had lost during her violent outburst. Her facial cuts throbbed, stinging with every movement of her jaw, but her eyes remained hardened with an unyielding sense of entitlement.
"There is nothing to discuss," Victoria insisted, raising her chin. "Leo and I are legally married. We signed the papers an hour before the ceremony. Whatever happened in the dressing room between Clara and me is a private family matter. You cannot throw a scandal like this into the public eye, Julian. It will tank the Sterling-Vance stock before the markets open on Monday."
Julian stared at her, his jaw tightening slightly. "You still think this is about stock prices, Victoria? You still believe our family name is a shield that protects you from the consequences of assault?" He turned his cold gaze toward Leo, who was slowly pushing himself up from the polished floor. The young man looked years older than his twenty-five years, his black tuxedo wrinkled and stained with dust and tears.
"I didn't want this," Leo whispered, his voice trembling as he avoided looking at either of the women. "Victoria said... she said if I didn't cut ties with Clara, she would make sure I was completely ruined financially. She threatened to release those old college letters, Julian. You know what my father would have done if those got out."
Clara winced, shifting her weight as the emerald green fabric brushed against the dark, throbbing bruises on her back. "You always use blackmail as a crutch, Leo," she said, her voice cutting through the tense air. "You were afraid of losing your inheritance, so you let her use me as a punching bag to vent her insecurities. Don't act like you were a helpless victim in all of this. You handed her the keys to the room."
Victoria lunged forward again, her face contorting with rage, but Julian intercepted her with a single, outstretched hand. His grip on her wrist was firm, immovable.
"No more violence under this roof," Julian warned, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the chilling authority of a judge handing down a death sentence. "We are going to sit down in the study. All three of you. And we are going to untangle this mess before the police arrive."
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Victoria went pale under her makeup. "The police? Julian, you wouldn't."
"Try me," Julian replied, releasing her wrist with a flick of his hand.
