Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Dark
The atmosphere in Suite 1402 shifted instantly. With Emily gone, Christian didn't have to hold back the monster that lurked beneath his tailored suit.
He walked over to the mahogany bar, poured himself three fingers of Scotch, and took a slow sip. He didn't offer any to Vanessa.
“Stand up,” Christian ordered.
Vanessa, trembling violently, scrambled to her feet. Her designer gown, worth forty thousand dollars, was wrinkled and covered in carpet lint. Her hair, usually styled into an immaculate chignon, was falling apart.
“Christian, please,” she begged, her voice hoarse. “Don't call the police. If this goes public, it will destroy your stock price! Vance Enterprises will take a massive hit! We can handle this quietly. An uncontested divorce! I’ll sign whatever you want! I’ll give back every cent of the money! Just… let me leave!”
Christian swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “You think this is about stock prices, Vanessa? You think I care about the market value of my company when my daughter has handprints on her face?”
He set the glass down with a sharp *clink* on the marble counter.
“You mentioned the Foundation Gala earlier,” Christian said smoothly, checking his platinum wristwatch. “It began twenty minutes ago in the Grand Ballroom downstairs. Five hundred of the most influential people in this country are currently sipping champagne, waiting for the guest of honor.”
Vanessa blinked, confused. “The… the gala?”
“Yes. The Children’s Hope Foundation,” Christian smiled, but it was the smile of an apex predator. “An organization dedicated to protecting abused and neglected children. An organization where you serve as the honorary chairwoman.”
Vanessa’s stomach plummeted into an abyss. “What are you going to do?”
“You spent months making sure Emily suffered in the dark,” Christian said, his voice dropping into a venomous whisper. “You made her believe no one would ever hear her. You made her feel isolated, worthless, and invisible. It is only fitting that your destruction takes place under the brightest lights in New York City.”
“No… no, Christian, you can't! You wouldn't!” she screamed, backing away until her spine hit the wall.
“Marcus,” Christian commanded.
“Sir.”
“Escort Mrs. Vance to the powder room. Ensure her makeup is touched up. Fix her hair. She needs to look absolutely breathtaking for her grand entrance.”
Vanessa fought, thrashing against Marcus’s iron grip as the security chief effortlessly seized her arm. “Let go of me! Christian, you bastard! You can't do this! I have rights! I’ll hire the best lawyers in the country! I’ll claim you abused me!”
Christian looked at her with pure disdain. “Every judge in this state owes their seat to my political action committees, Vanessa. The District Attorney has been my personal friend for twenty-five years. You don't have rights tonight. You only have a sentence.”
Marcus dragged her toward the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Her muffled screams and curses vibrated through the wood, but Christian barely heard them.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a direct line to the Manhattan District Attorney.
“Arthur,” Christian said when the call connected. “It’s Christian. I have a package for you at the St. Regis. Have two felony transport units waiting at the service entrance in thirty minutes. Child abuse, aggravated assault, grand larceny, and corporate embezzlement.”
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On the other end, District Attorney Arthur Vance—Christian’s first cousin—didn't hesitate. “The warrants are already being signed, Christian. We’re on our way.”
***
