Chapter 3 - The CountdownMinute One.
I stayed on the cold marble, looking at the bloody fingerprint I had left on his ridiculous non-disclosure agreement. I didn’t try to stand. I simply kept my eyes locked on Julian’s face, watching the fragile architecture of his ego begin to splinter. He had absolutely no idea. He was entirely, blissfully oblivious to the invisible, catastrophic financial guillotine that was currently in freefall toward his neck.
Minute Two.
Julian’s personal smartphone, resting on the marble counter of the wet bar, emitted a sharp, high-pitched chime. He picked it up with a shaking hand.
ALERT: Platinum Centurion Account Suspended. Please contact fraud prevention.
Julian swallowed hard, aggressively swiping the notification away. “Fucking banking glitches,” he muttered, trying to project strength for his mistress. “Remind me to have my assistant fire our account manager tomorrow, Chloe.”
Minute Three.
The phone didn’t chime this time. It began to ring violently, the vibration rattling the device against the marble countertop. Julian looked at the caller ID. It was David, his Chief Financial Officer. Julian pressed the green button, desperately needing to hear a subservient voice to restore his dominance.
“David, what is it?” Julian barked, trying to sound irritated. “I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed tonight.”
“Julian! What the hell did you do?!”
David’s voice exploded from the speaker. He wasn’t speaking with his usual deferential, polished corporate tone. He was hysterical. His voice was shrill, breathless, and bordering on a full-blown, panic-induced scream.
“Excuse me?” Julian’s posture stiffened. “Watch your tone, David.”
“Watch my tone?! Julian, Apex Holdings just pulled our entire liquidity line!” David shrieked, the sound of frantic typing and shouting echoing in the background. “The primary lenders just triggered the morality and emergency recall clauses on our operational loans! They are demanding immediate repayment in full! Do you understand me? Right now!”
Julian froze. “That’s impossible. We have a thirty-day grace period on any recall—”
“There is no grace period!” David screamed, his voice cracking with sheer terror. “They are actively liquidating the company! The servers are locking us out. Our stock price is plummeting into the dirt in after-hours block trading! Every major investor is pulling out simultaneously! We are ninety million dollars in the red, and it’s been three minutes!”
Minute Four.
Julian dropped his phone. It clattered against the marble floor.
“That’s impossible,” Julian whispered, the air leaving his lungs. “Sterling International owns our debt. I met their acquisitions director last year. They love my vision!”
“Sterling International doesn’t care about your vision, you arrogant idiot!” David sobbed through the dropped phone on the floor. “I just got off the phone with their legal department. The Chairman of Sterling just issued a direct, irrevocable kill order on our entire corporate portfolio!”
Minute Five.
Julian went entirely, terrifyingly still. He slowly, agonizingly turned his head away from the phone. He looked down at the bleeding, battered woman kneeling on the floor of his estate. He looked at my dark hair, my dark eyes. He watched as I slowly, agonizingly pushed myself up into a sitting position.
May you like
He stared at me, his mind desperately scrambling, gears grinding as five years of narcissistic delusion collided with a horrifying, apocalyptic reality. He finally remembered my maiden name. A name I had begged him to keep out of the press because I claimed I was “shy.” A name I had used to quietly co-sign the loans that built his fake empire.
Victoria Sterling.
