Chapter 3
Julian knelt beside Emily, entirely ignoring Victoria’s demands. He placed a steady, reassuring hand on Emily’s shoulder. His touch was firm, grounding her against the swirling chaos of the accusations.
“Emily isn’t going anywhere,” Julian said, his voice deep, resonant, and carrying effortlessly across the cavernous foyer. He turned his head slightly, locking his piercing gaze onto the blonde woman standing higher up the stairs. “But you are.”
Victoria recoiled as if she had been physically struck. “Are you out of your mind, Julian? I am the victim here! That girl was found with my grandmother’s diamond in her possession!”
“Grandmother’s diamond that was supposedly locked in the master safe upstairs,” Julian replied calmly, rising to his full height. He kept his hand near Emily, helping her gently to her feet, ensuring she did not stumble on the polished wood. Emily’s breath came in ragged, disbelieving gasps as she looked between Julian and Victoria. For the first time since the ordeal began, a flicker of hope sparked behind her tear-filled eyes.
Julian motioned to the wall-mounted screen, which was still looping the high-definition footage from the basement storage locker room. “The master safe requires a dual biometric authorization. Only Mr. Sterling and yourself have those clearances. Yet, three hours ago, the diamond was removed, taken down to the basement, and slipped into a bag belonging to a set of luggage that Emily was asked to unpack for the guest rooms.”
Victoria’s face lost its remaining color, replaced by an ugly, defensive flush. “Circumstantial nonsense! Anyone could have accessed that locker room. The security system is outdated; it’s prone to glitches.”
“It’s a quantum-encrypted neural network installed six months ago, Victoria,” Julian said flatly, stepping closer to the stairs. “It doesn’t glitch. And facial recognition algorithms verified your identity with a ninety-nine point eight percent accuracy rating. Not to mention, your designer perfume residue was lifted from the leather handle of the bag by our preliminary forensic swab.”
The two men in suits standing in the background stepped forward, closing the distance between Victoria and the exit. The illusion of absolute power that Victoria had worn like armor all evening began to disintegrate thread by thread. She looked desperately toward the heavy front doors, as if she might outrun the digital footprint she had so carelessly left behind.
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“This is a conspiracy,” Victoria hissed, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You’re protecting her because—because you have some pathetic little sympathy for the help.”
“I protect the truth, Victoria,” Julian replied coldly. “And right now, the truth demands an explanation for why you tried to ruin an innocent woman’s life just to cover up your own financial indiscretions.”
