Chapter 3 - The True King
Heavy, synchronized boots flooded the first floor.
Owen fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears and sobbing as the sound of men storming up the stairs echoed through the house. Marissa backed against the wall, all the color draining from her face, her arrogant smirk replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.
The bedroom doorway filled with men in tailored black tactical suits, heavily armed and completely silent. They parted down the middle.
Silas Sterling stepped into the room.
He was a terrifying force of nature. Dressed in a flawless bespoke suit, he radiated a dark, suffocating authority that made the air feel too heavy to breathe. He was the apex predator of the Midwestern financial underworld—a billionaire who destroyed lives and leveled corporations with a single whisper.
"Mr. Sterling!" Owen cried, crawling on his hands and knees toward the door, tears streaming down his face. "Please! It was her! My wife set the whole thing up! Clara is the one who stole your money!"
Silas didn't even look at Owen. He didn't look at Marissa, who was currently sliding down the wall, too paralyzed by fear to even speak.
His dark, piercing gray eyes locked entirely on me.
"Three years ago," Silas murmured, his deep, gravelly voice sending a shiver of absolute electricity down my spine. "You told me you were tired of the darkness. You told me you wanted a normal life, with a normal man, in a normal house. You asked me to let you go."
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Owen froze on the floor. He looked from Silas up to me, his brain completely failing to process what he was hearing.
"I gave you your freedom, mia regina," Silas continued, stepping over my husband as if he were nothing more than garbage on the floor, stopping inches in front of me. He gently reached out, his leather-gloved hand brushing a stray curl behind my ear. "And this pathetic, cheating, thieving coward is what you chose over me?"
