Part 2: The Wrath of the King
The billionaire did not scream. He did not lose his temper or throw a frantic tantrum. Instead, a terrifying, absolute calm washed over his features—the exact same cold, calculating, and predatory demeanor he used right before dismantling rival corporations and leaving his enemies utterly bankrupt.
He slowly stood up, pulling his trembling daughter behind his broad back, shielding her from the woman who had tormented her.
"You wore the diamonds I bought," he whispered, his voice dangerously low, slicing through the dead air of the foyer like a scalpel. "You drank the wine from my cellar. You lived like a queen in the fortress I built to keep my family safe. And you used my absence to turn my only child into your slave."
"It was just to teach her manners!" the woman shrieked, the crystal glass finally slipping from her trembling hand. It shattered against the marble, spilling dark red wine that pooled around her expensive heels like blood. "She never respected me! I am your wife!"
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"You were my wife," he corrected with chilling, absolute finality. "As of this exact second, you are a trespasser."
He pulled his phone from his pocket, bypassing his legal team and directly dialing the head of his private security detail. "Get a team to the main foyer immediately. We have a hostile intruder who needs to be removed from the premises. And make sure she leaves with exactly what she brought into this marriage: absolutely nothing."
