Chapter 3: The Vault of Secrets
The panic in Victoria’s eyes quickly curdled into a reckless, desperate fury. She realized that pleading, crying, and manipulating would no longer work on a man whose protective instincts had been violently awakened.
Without a word, Victoria spun on her high heels and bolted from the master bathroom, dashing toward the walk-in dressing room across the suite. Her silk gown rustled frantically against the hardwood floor as she threw open the hidden wall safe behind the custom walnut cabinetry.
Inside the safe sat her true insurance policy: a heavy, black leather pouch filled with bearer bonds, diamond-encrusted jewelry she had stolen from the estate over the past year, and a loaded, unregistered firearm she had kept for emergencies.
She swept the contents into a velvet travel bag with trembling, frantic hands. If she couldn't have the Sterling fortune legally, she would bleed it dry and run before the authorities arrived.
As she zipped the bag shut, a shadow fell across the doorway.
Christian stood leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her frantic movements with cold, dead detachment. He didn't rush her. He didn't try to stop her physically. He simply let her dig her own grave.
"Leaving so soon, Victoria?" Christian asked smoothly, his tone laced with venom.
Victoria whipped around, her hand diving into the bag and pulling out the heavy, dark firearm, leveling the barrel directly at Christian’s chest. Her breathing was erratic, her chest heaving under the sheer lace of her wedding dress.
"Don't take another step, Christian!" she shrieked, tears of sheer frustration spilling over her cheeks. "I'll do it! I'll blow a hole right through you and walk out of this estate over your dead body!"
Christian didn't blink. He didn't raise his hands. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, ignoring the metal barrel pointed right at his heart.
"Go ahead," Christian whispered, his voice unwavering. "Shoot me. Because the moment you pull that trigger, every federal marshal stationed outside the gates will storm this room. And unlike your offshore accounts, a murder charge doesn't have a loophole."
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Victoria’s hands shook violently. The weight of the gun felt suddenly unbearable. She looked toward the tall windows overlooking the front drive, where the flashing red and blue lights of federal cruisers were beginning to illuminate the courtyard in frantic, pulsing strokes.
Trapped by federal law enforcement and stripped of her weapons, does Victoria manage one last desperate gamble, or does justice finally claim her? Turn the page to Chapter 4.
