Chapter 16 - The Daughter of Ruin
Peace is a dangerous illusion. When you spend your life fighting monsters, you condition yourself to sleep with one eye open. But when the dust settles, and the monsters are locked in federal cages, you make the fatal mistake of believing the war is over.
You forget that monsters have bloodlines.
It was a blistering Tuesday in early February, four months before our wedding. Julian and I were in the middle of a tasting with our caterer, laughing over the ridiculousness of selecting between six different types of truffles, when Julian’s phone rang.
His private, encrypted line.
Julian glanced at the screen, his smile faltering instantly. He stood up, excusing himself, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. I watched his posture shift. The relaxed, joyful fiancé vanished, replaced by the lethal, calculating attorney I had fallen in love with.
When he turned back to me, his face was carved from stone.
"Julian?" I asked, setting down my fork. "What is it?"
"The Department of Justice just raided my law firm's downtown archives," Julian said, his voice a low, vibrating hum of suppressed rage. "They seized every file, every hard drive, and every digital communication connected to the Alexander Pierce prosecution."
My blood ran cold. "Alexander Pierce is serving thirty years without parole. The case is closed. On what grounds did they get a warrant?"
"They didn't get a warrant for Pierce," Julian explained, walking back to the table and grabbing his coat. "They got a warrant for me. Someone just filed a massive federal complaint accusing my firm of fabricating the financial evidence that put Pierce away. They are trying to disbar me, Vivian. And if they succeed, they can petition to overturn Pierce's conviction."
"Who filed the complaint?" I demanded, my mind instantly spinning through the financial ledgers I knew by heart.
"A woman named Victoria Pierce," Julian said, his eyes darkening. "Alexander’s daughter. She runs the European branch of Vanguard Holdings. And she just landed in Chicago."
I had researched the Pierce family extensively, but Victoria had been a ghost. She operated entirely in the shadows of the London and Zurich markets, untouched by her father's domestic arrogance.
We left the tasting and drove straight to Julian’s firm.
When we stepped off the elevator on the executive floor, the scene was chaotic. Federal agents in windbreakers were carrying boxes of files out of the conference rooms. But my eyes did not lock on the agents.
They locked on the woman standing in the center of the lobby.
Victoria Pierce was in her early thirties, dressed in an immaculate, razor-sharp white suit that looked like it had been sculpted onto her body. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a severe knot. She radiated an aura of absolute, terrifying control. She did not look like a grieving daughter; she looked like an executioner.
She saw us approach and offered a slow, chilling smile.
"Mr. Holloway," Victoria purred, her British accent dripping with condescension. "And the famous Vivian Marlo. The little bookkeeper who thought she could slay a dragon with a spreadsheet."
"Ms. Pierce," Julian said, stepping slightly in front of me, his voice radiating pure menace. "You are trespassing in my firm. And filing a frivolous federal complaint to intimidate an officer of the court is a felony."
"It isn't frivolous if I have proof," Victoria countered smoothly, signaling to one of the federal agents. "My father was a dinosaur, I will admit that. He made sloppy mistakes. But he did not launder three billion dollars. I know this, because I laundered it. You pinned my crimes on him using manipulated forensic accounting. You broke the law, Mr. Holloway. And I am going to take your license, your firm, and your freedom."
I stepped out from behind Julian, leveling my gaze with the billionaire heiress.
"If you laundered the money, Victoria," I said, my voice perfectly calm and devoid of fear, "then you just confessed to a federal agent."
Victoria laughed—a sharp, musical sound entirely devoid of warmth. "Oh, Vivian. Do you really think I would stand here if I didn't already own the board? The agent won't arrest me. Because the evidence against my father is about to be officially classified as tampered. I don't care about freeing the old man. I care about the insult. You humiliated my family name. And for that, I am going to slowly, systematically tear your entire life to pieces."
She stepped closer, her eyes flashing with pure malice.
"Enjoy planning your wedding, Vivian. I suggest you book a venue with visitation glass."
Victoria turned and walked toward the elevators, leaving the threat hanging heavily in the air.
Julian’s jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. He looked at me, expecting to see the panic setting in.
But I wasn't panicking. The terrified, invisible sister was dead. I was the matriarch of my own empire now.
May you like
"She thinks she owns the board," I whispered, my eyes tracking her exit. "Julian, get me the decrypted files on Vanguard’s European servers. We aren't going to play defense. We are going to burn her kingdom to the ground."
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