Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Queen BeeI kicked the master suite door open with such force that the iron hinges splintered.
Inside, the luxurious bedroom was a disaster zone. Expensive designer dresses were ripped from the walk-in closet, makeup and crushed jewels littered the king-sized bed, and standing trapped by the shattered balcony doors was Victoria Sterling.
Her French lace wedding dress was torn and stained with soot. Her diamond necklace was crooked, and her mascara was running down her cheeks in jagged, black streaks. She turned around, holding a heavy crystal decanter like a weapon, her chest heaving with wild, hysterical breaths.
"Stay back!" Victoria screamed, her voice cracking in pure terror. "You ruined everything! You and your bastard children! Marcus and I were supposed to rule this entire city!"
"Marcus doesn't even know where he is right now, Victoria," I said coldly, walking toward her step by step, the muzzle of my pistol pointed steadily at the floor, though my finger hovered over the trigger. "He's probably in a holding cell downtown, or wandering the streets like a homeless vagrant. You hitched your wagon to a sinking ship, and then you tried to burn the ocean."
Victoria lunged forward, hurling the crystal decanter straight at my head.
I ducked smoothly, letting the heavy glass shatter against the stone fireplace behind me. Before she could turn to run, I closed the distance in a fraction of a second, grabbed her by the diamond-encrusted collar of her torn wedding dress, and slammed her hard against the cold glass of the balcony door.
The freezing Denver wind whipped her hair into a frenzy. Below us, police sirens were beginning to wail in the distance, their red and blue lights flashing against the snow-covered streets like angry heartbeats.
"Look down there, Victoria," I whispered fiercely into her ear, pressing her face against the glass. "That’s where you belong. In the dirt. You thought because I was a waitress five years ago, I was weak. You thought you could step on me and walk away."
"Please..." Victoria sobbed, her manicured nails clawing at my wrists. "Please don't kill me... I'll give you everything..."
"I don't want your money," I replied, my voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "I want your utter, absolute destruction."
The bedroom door burst open behind us. Arthur Vance was shoved into the room, handcuffed behind his back by two private security operatives, followed by three local police detectives holding arrest warrants.
"Victoria Sterling and Arthur Vance," the lead detective announced, flashing a shiny badge as he stepped over the shattered glass. "You're under arrest for corporate embezzlement, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, and attempted murder. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
As the cuffs were slapped onto Victoria’s wrists, she let out a piercing, hysterical shriek that echoed off the penthouse walls. She was dragged away, kicking and screaming into the snowy night, her grand socialite life reduced to handcuffs and prison orange.
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Arthur Vance didn't fight. He just stared at me with defeated eyes as the detectives pushed him past me toward the elevator.
"You won, Elena," Arthur muttered quietly as he walked by. "The empire is yours."
