Chapter 5 - Stripped to the Bone
The drawing room turned into a scene of absolute humiliation.
My tactical operatives moved in with mechanical efficiency. They stripped Victoria of her white mink coat, her five-carat sapphire ring, and her diamond earrings. They forced Chloe to take off her designer boots and her gold Cartier bracelets. They took Julian’s Rolex and Richard’s Italian leather shoes.
“You monster!” Chloe screamed as an enforcer pulled her mink scarf from her shoulders, leaving her in a thin silk blouse and leggings. “It’s freezing outside! You can’t throw us out into the storm without shoes!”
“My wife had no shoes when you threw her into the snow, Chloe,” I replied, taking a seat in the high-backed leather armchair that had once belonged to Elena’s father. I poured myself a glass of thirty-year-old scotch from the crystal decanter on the side table. “In fact, you have an advantage. The sun will be up in an hour. She had to suffer in the dark.”
Victoria fell to her knees before my chair, her aristocratic composure completely shattered. She reached out, trying to touch the hem of my trousers, but Marcus stepped between us, his heavy boot pressing against her wrist.
“Elias... please...” Victoria begged, her voice a pathetic whimper. “I was wrong! I was greedy! Please... think of your father-in-law! He loved this house! Don't destroy our family!”
I took a slow sip of the scotch, feeling the warm burn slide down my throat.
“Arthur Vance was a good man,” I said quietly, looking up at the oil portrait of Elena’s father hanging above the mantelpiece. “He was a visionary who built this resort company with his own sweat. And on his deathbed, he saw through all of you. He knew you were parasites who would sell his legacy to the highest bidder the moment he was buried.”
I set the crystal glass down on the table with a soft thud.
“He left everything to Elena because he knew she was the only one with a soul. And you tried to freeze her to death for it.”
Julian began to weep loudly, rocking back and forth on the ruined Persian rug. “Where are we supposed to go? We don't have any money! We don't have a car! Our phones are turned off!”
“There is a homeless shelter six miles down the mountain road in Lake Placid village,” I said, checking my platinum watch. “If you start walking now, you might make it before your toes freeze off. I suggest you move quickly. The snow is picking up.”
“You’re making us walk six miles in the snow?!” Richard shrieked, his bare feet blue against the hardwood floor.
“I am being generous,” I corrected, standing up from the armchair, pulling my trench coat tight around my shoulders. “If it were up to my men, you would be at the bottom of Lake Placid wrapped in heavy steel chains. Count your blessings that my wife asked me to spare your miserable lives.”
I turned my back on them and walked toward the grand entrance.
“Throw them out,” I ordered my tactical team. “And lock the gates.”
Four enforcers grabbed Victoria, Chloe, Julian, and Richard by their collars, dragging them kicking and screaming across the grand foyer, through the ruined front entrance, and out onto the frozen drive.
May you like
The heavy iron gates of the Vance estate slammed shut behind them with a heavy, final CLANG, locked tight by an electronic security system that now answered only to the Ghost King.
Victoria Vance stood outside the gate in her bare stockings, her children weeping around her in the howling white storm, looking back at the glowing lights of the mansion she had lost forever.
