Chapter 5
Julian’s thumb rubbed frantically over the engraved crest of the Vance family signet ring.
"Victoria, what is the meaning of this?" Julian demanded, his voice dropping into a colder, more commanding register.
"Where did you find this lunatic?"
"She isn't a lunatic, Julian," Victoria said, her voice shaking as she stepped away from him.
"She is Martha.
Mother of Clara.
The engineer your father left to drown in the sunken trench."
Julian let out a sharp, dismissive scoff, though sweat was beginning to bead along his hairline.
"That’s absurd.
Some maritime conspiracy theory dredged up by internet trolls.
Security!"
He turned toward the front entrance, but the automated lock clicked shut with a heavy, final thud.
The deadbolts slid into place from the outside, controlled by a digital override panel on the wall.
Martha pressed a small handheld remote into the pocket of her apron.
"No one leaves until the accounts are settled," Martha said evenly.
"The boutique is operating on an isolated network.
Your credit cards, your encrypted comms, your corporate portfolios—they are all routing through the server embedded in this bridal gown."
Julian lunged toward the wall panel, slamming his fist against the digital keypad.
The screen flashed red, reading: DATA TRANSFER IN PROGRESS.
"You crazy old hag!" Julian shouted, his veneer of sophistication completely shattering.
"You have no idea what forces you are messing with! My father will have you put away in a black-site facility before morning!"
"Your father’s assets were frozen twenty minutes ago," Martha replied, her voice remaining a calm, terrifying contrast to his rage.
"The moment you walked through that door and connected your phone to the boutique's local Wi-Fi router, the trap closed."
Victoria watched Julian spin around, his eyes wild with terror as he realized his empire was evaporating in real time.
She looked down at her own hands, noticing a faint blue glow reflecting off her skin.
The dress was absorbing the data stream.
"Victoria, listen to me," Julian pleaded, taking a desperate step toward her and reaching out his hands.
"She’s lying to destroy us.
We love each other.
We can take a private jet to Zurich tonight and leave all this behind."
May you like
Victoria looked at his outstretched hands—the hands that wore the family ring bought with blood money.
She stepped backward out of his reach.
