The teapot hit the marble floor without breaking, but Elena’s scream tore through my dining room. By the time I saw the angry red burn spreading across her arm and looked at the woman wearing my engagement ring, I knew Camille had finally shown me exactly who she was. She just hadn’t realized she’d destroyed our future in front of everyone.

The glass pavilion sat at the center of the estate’s rose garden—a grand structure of wrought iron and reinforced glass surrounded by manicured hedges and stone fountains.

At eight-fifteen, Marco escorted Senator Arthur Vance into the pavilion.

The man looked ten years older than he had twenty-four hours ago. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his expensive wool coat rumpled as though he had slept in it. The arrogant, booming tone he used on political podiums was entirely gone, replaced by the hollow, frantic energy of a man watching his world vanish into a abyss.

I sat at the wrought-iron table, reading through the morning market reports on my tablet. I didn't stand when he entered.

"Gabriel..." Vance breathed, rushing forward, his hands outstretched. "Gabriel, thank God. You have to stop the trading desk. Your managers are dumping Vance Logistics shares in block trades on the London market! My stock is down forty percent!"

"Sit down, Arthur," I said quietly, pointing to the chair opposite me.

Vance collapsed into the chair, burying his face in his hands for a second before looking up at me with desperate, pleading eyes. "This is madness! A catastrophe! We are business partners! We have known each other for fifteen years!"

"We were partners, Arthur," I corrected him smoothly. "Until your daughter demonstrated her contempt for my home, my staff, and my name."

"Camille is young! She made a mistake!" Vance cried out, leaning across the table. "She was under immense stress with the wedding planning! She feels terrible about what happened—"

"She feels terrible that she lost her crown, Arthur," I interrupted, my voice dropping into a razor-thin tone. "She showed zero regret for burning a human being. She showed zero regret for humiliating your family in front of the Chief Justice. She only wept when she realized the Sterling name was no longer hers to hide behind."

"I will force her to apologize publicly!" Vance promised, his knuckles white against the metal table. "She will issue a video statement! She will go on national television and apologize to the girl! She will enter anger management classes! Whatever you want, Gabriel! Just stop the divestment! My campaign... my life's work... it's all going to be wiped out by noon!"

I looked at the veteran politician, feeling nothing but a profound, icy clarity.

"You brought her here to secure your future, Arthur," I said. "You pushed the engagement because you knew Vance Logistics was failing from mismanaged debt. You hoped that by tying your daughter to my name, the Sterling Trust would absorb your seventy million dollar deficit."

Vance went completely still, his mouth opening slightly as the blood drained from his face once more.

"You thought I didn't know?" I continued softly. "I knew about your Cayman accounts six months ago. I knew you were using campaign funds to cover your shipping terminal losses. I allowed the engagement to proceed because I believed Camille was a decent person who might help you turn your company around."

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table, looking directly into his terrified eyes.

"But last night, your daughter proved that the rot in your family goes all the way to the bone. And I do not invest in rot."

"Gabriel... please..." Vance whispered, tears finally welling in his red-rimmed eyes. "If you do this... if you enforce the margin call... I will be ruined. The Senate ethics committee will launch an investigation into my accounts by the end of the week. I'll go to prison."

"Then I suggest you retain a good lawyer, Arthur," I said, standing up from the table. "You have until five o'clock today to surrender your board seat at Vance Logistics and hand over the deeds to the northern shipping terminals to Sterling Global. If you do that, I will refrain from filing criminal fraud charges against your campaign committee."

"And if I refuse?" Vance rasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and sudden, desperate venom.

"If you refuse," I said, looking down at him coldly, "I will publish the complete forensic audit of your offshore accounts on the front page of the National Gazette tomorrow morning."

I turned my back on him and walked toward the exit of the glass pavilion.

"Gabriel!" Vance screamed behind me, his voice echoing off the glass walls. "You are a monster! You and your mother! You have blood for ice!"