Chapter 11
Forty-eight hours had passed since the confrontation in the living room. Eleanor had been quietly transferred to the private medical facility upstate under the guise of an extended European wellness retreat, managed seamlessly by Victor’s elite legal team. The staff had been briefed, silenced by non-disclosure agreements and generous bonuses, while Clara had moved into the suite adjacent to the nursery, stepping seamlessly into her new role.
Victor sat at the head of the massive mahogany table in his downtown corporate headquarters, fifty floors above the bustling streets of Manhattan. The boardroom was sleek, modern, and intimidating, featuring floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the sprawling city skyline. Seated across from him were his chief legal counsel, Marcus, and two senior real estate partners who looked distinctly uneasy.
“The acquisition of the downtown waterfront district is finalized,” the lead partner announced nervously, tapping a thick stack of contracts. “However, Victor, there is a complication regarding the funding sources from the secondary shell corporations.”
Victor leaned back in his leather executive chair, resting his arms on the armrests. The heavy gold watch on his right wrist caught the fluorescent glare of the boardroom lights. He narrowed his eyes, sensing where the conversation was heading.
“Spit it out, Marcus,” Victor commanded without looking at the partners.
Marcus stepped forward, placing a manila folder on the glass table. “We traced the origin of the audit leak that nearly sabotaged the deal last week. It didn't come from a rival developer. It came from an encrypted IP address originating from a private server registered under Julian Vance’s name.”
The room went dead silent. The partners exchanged anxious glances, well aware of the bitter history between Victor and Julian.
“He isn't just trying to extort money from my wife,” Victor murmured, realization dawning with chilling clarity. “He’s trying to dismantle my entire corporate empire from the inside out, using our personal vulnerabilities as leverage.”
“What are your orders, Mr. Sterling?” Marcus asked, his voice steady and professional. “Do we bury him legally, or do we handle this through alternative channels?”
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Victor stood up slowly, towering over the table. The tattoos on his neck seemed to tighten as his jaw clenched. He had spent years playing by the rules of corporate America, but Julian had crossed a sacred boundary by targeting his home and his son.
“We don't wait for him to make the next move,” Victor said coldly. “Find out where he’s hiding, drain his remaining liquidity, and bring him to me.”
