Chapter 3 - The Ringing Screen
The phone buzzed against the marble floor, the metallic vibration cutting through the heavy silence of the hallway like a buzzsaw. Julian pulled his hand away from Elena, his eyes locking onto the small leather purse lying beside Clara’s hip. The screen was illuminated with a bright, pulsing light, displaying a caller ID that made Julian’s breath catch in his throat. It was a restricted number, but beneath it flashed a name that hadn't been spoken in the Vanderbilt household for over a decade: Arthur Vance.
"Answer it," Clara murmured, her voice laced with malicious triumph as she pressed a hand against her bleeding temple. "Go ahead, Julian. Pick it up and ask him why he’s been wiring five thousand dollars a month into Elena’s offshore account. Ask him whose blood is really running through your wife's veins."
Elena lunged forward, her magenta dress rustling sharply, and kicked the purse away. The phone slid across the checkered floor, coming to a rest against the baseboard of the wall sconce, still vibrating insistently.
"Don't you dare touch it, Julian!" Elena shouted, her voice cracking with a desperation she could no longer conceal. "Arthur Vance is a convicted fraudster. He’s been trying to extort me for months. If you answer that call, you are playing right into a blackmail scheme designed to strip us of everything we’ve built."
Julian ignored her. He walked past his wife with deliberate, heavy steps, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen. The phone stopped vibrating for a brief second, only to begin ringing again with a harsh, default marimba tone that echoed off the high ceilings. He dropped to one knee, reached out his hand, and hesitated with his thumb hovering directly over the green accept icon.
"Julian, if you answer that phone, there is no going back for us," Elena whispered, her tone shifting from anger to a quiet, pleading ache. She dropped the high-heel shoe; it hit the floor with a dull thud, rolling away from her feet. "Trust me. Not her. Me."
Julian looked back over his shoulder, his eyes dark and unreadable. Without breaking eye contact with his wife, he swiped the screen and pressed the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" Julian said into the quiet receiver.
May you like
A heavy, static-laced sigh came from the other end of the line, followed by a raspy voice that said, "It's about time, son. Now, let's talk about why your wife paid off the man who murdered your father."
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