Chapter 4 - The Devastation Of Marcus SterlingBy 8:00 AM the next morning, the financial world was in absolute meltdown.
I sat propped up in a luxurious guest suite inside Alexander’s penthouse, a tablet resting on my lap as breaking news alerts flashed across every major financial network.
“BREAKING: Sterling Foundation Assets Frozen Amid Federal Fraud Investigation.” “STERLING CORP STOCK PLUMMETS 84%: Emergency Board Meeting Called Following Massive Forensic Audit Leak.” “MARCUS STERLING FACES CRIMINAL INDICTMENT OVER OFFSHORE EMBEZZLEMENT SCANDAL.”
I stared at the screen, my breath catching in my throat. The manila folder Alexander had given me the night before contained ironclad evidence—bank records, shell company registrations, and signed wire transfers—proving that Marcus had been systematically embezzling millions from the foundation’s charitable trust to fund his lavish lifestyle and his expensive mistresses, including Sarah.
The door clicked open, and Alexander walked in holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea and some fresh fruit. He glanced at the tablet screen, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Fast work,” I murmured, handing the tablet back to him.
“When you have the right leverage and the best forensic accountants money can buy, efficiency is just a byproduct,” Alexander said smoothly, setting the tray down on the bedside table. He pulled up a chair and sat down, watching me eat. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in four years,” I admitted honestly. For the first time since my wedding day, there was no knot of anxiety in my chest, no suffocating pressure to perform, no dread of walking into a room where I wasn't wanted.
Just as I took a sip of tea, my phone—which I had left on silent all night—suddenly lit up. It buzzed violently against the nightstand.
Call incoming: Marcus.
I stared at the glowing screen. The caller ID showed a picture of Marcus and me from our wedding day—a staged, miserable memory where I was smiling for the camera while he looked right through me.
Alexander noticed my hesitation. He reached over, picked up the phone, and pressed the speakerphone button before tossing it gently onto the center of the bed.
“Answer it,” Alexander instructed calmly. “Let’s hear what the king has to say now that his castle has burned down.”
I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling slightly as I pressed my thumb against the screen. “Hello, Marcus.”
For a second, there was only dead silence on the line, followed by heavy, frantic breathing. Then, Marcus’s voice exploded through the speaker, frantic, broken, and dripping with raw panic.
“Elena! Elena, where the hell are you?! Are you with him?!” Marcus screamed, the sound of glass shattering and muffled shouting echoing in the background. It sounded like he was standing in the middle of a war zone.
“I’m safe, Marcus,” I said, my voice remarkably steady.
“Safe?! My life is over! The federal agents just raided the corporate office! They froze all our accounts! They’re saying I’m facing twenty years for financial fraud!” Marcus sobbed, a pathetic, desperate sound that used to break my heart, but now only sounded hollow. “Mom had a panic attack and is in the hospital! Sarah packed her bags and bolted the second the police showed up at the penthouse! Elena, please—you have my child! Tell Alexander to call off his dogs! You’re my wife!”
“Your wife?” I repeated, a cold, bitter smile touching my lips. “Yesterday in the VIP lounge, when your mother dragged me across the marble floor by my hair while your mistress laughed, did you consider me your wife then, Marcus?”
A choking gasp came from the other end of the line. “I… I didn’t mean—Mom was out of control, you know how she is! We can fix this, Elena! Just come back home, talk to Alexander, tell him to drop the charges!”
Before I could answer, a strong, warm hand reached over and smoothly swiped the phone off the bed. Alexander brought the speaker close to his own mouth.
“She’s not coming back, little brother,” Alexander said, his voice dripping with lethal amusement.
“Alexander! You bastard! You did this! You ruined me!” Marcus shrieked.
“I didn't ruin you, Marcus. I just stopped propping up a pathetic fraud,” Alexander replied coolly. “Oh, and by the way? The penthouse you’re standing in right now? The police are about to serve an eviction notice on that property too. You might want to grab your toothbrush before they lock the doors.”
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Alexander pressed the red end-call button, cutting off Marcus’s frantic screaming in an instant. He tossed the phone onto the desk across the room and turned back to me, his expression softening instantly.
“Well,” Alexander smiled gently. “That takes care of chapter one.”
