Chapter 4 - THE GOLD COAST SHOWDOWN: RETURNING THE RING WITH INTEREST
Two weeks after his encounter at Elena’s Midnight Kitchen, Damian stood on the polished hardwood floors of Victoria Lane’s Gold Coast apartment.
The apartment was quiet, smelling of expensive white lily potpourri and designer candles.
On the dining table, an unopened bottle of Dom Pérignon sat chilling in a silver ice bucket.
Victoria emerged from the bedroom wearing a silk robe, her blonde hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, a bright, welcoming smile plastered across her face. “Damian! You’re early. I thought you had a late board meeting at Hale Meridian.”
Damian didn't smile. He didn't take off his coat. He stood near the entryway, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his overcoat.
Victoria’s smile faltered slightly. “Darling? Is everything alright? You look... pale.”
“Everything is fine, Victoria,” Damian said, his voice chillingly calm. “In fact, everything has never been clearer.”
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the velvet ring box, and set it squarely in the center of the coffee table.
Victoria stared at the box. Her eyes widened, a sudden rush of excitement coloring her cheeks. “Is that... is that what I think it is? Oh, Damian! You finally decided—!”
“Open it,” Damian commanded quietly.
Trembling slightly, Victoria stepped forward, flipped open the velvet lid, and stared down at the five-carat diamond solitaire sparkling brilliantly under the chandelier.
Instead of gasping in joy, her breath hitched in her throat.
Because resting right beside the diamond was a standard flash drive.
“What... what is this?” Victoria whispered, looking up at him with sudden, rising panic.
“It’s a wedding present, Victoria,” Damian said, stepping closer, his voice dropping into a register of razor-sharp menace. “Or rather, a divorce present. Though we never technically made it down the aisle.”
“Damian, I don't know what you’re talking about—!”
“Play the footage, Victoria,” Damian interrupted, gesturing toward the flash drive. “Or I can describe it for you. Underground garage. Wednesday, October 14th. 7:14 PM. You and Evan Cole. Kissing against the side of his silver Mercedes.”
The color drained from Victoria’s face so fast she looked like a corpse under the harsh lighting.
Her knees buckled slightly against the edge of the coffee table. “Damian... let me explain. It wasn't... Evan and I just... it happened once—!”
“Don't insult my intelligence, Victoria,” Damian snapped, his voice ringing off the apartment walls like a gunshot. “I’ve had investigators review your phone records, your text messages, and your shared credit card statements over the past eighteen months. You and Evan have been sleeping together since before we took that trip to Napa.”
Victoria opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The sophisticated, sharp interior designer vanished, replaced by a cornered, terrified fraud caught red-handed.
“You took my trips. You took my cars. You took the studio space I financed for your business,” Damian continued, his eyes locked onto hers with absolute disgust. “You thought you were going to marry into the Hale fortune, live in Lake Forest, and keep Evan on the side as your dirty little secret.”
“Damian, please!” Victoria sobbed, lunging forward to grab his sleeve. “Don't do this! We can work it out! I love you!”
Damian ripped his arm out of her grasp with cold, effortless disdain.
“Don't ever touch me again,” he said quietly. “Your lease on this apartment has been terminated as of midnight. All funding for your design studio has been frozen. And as for Evan? I already had my corporate legal team audit his company’s financials. He’s facing three counts of corporate embezzlement and federal wire fraud by morning.”
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Victoria stared at him in absolute horror. “You’re ruining him! You’re ruining us!”
“You ruined yourselves,” Damian said, turning toward the door. “Enjoy the ring, Victoria. It’s the last thing you’ll ever get from a Hale.”
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