Chapter 2 - THE SHATTERED ILLUSIONDominic stumbled forward, thrown completely off balance by my sudden, explosive movement. His mouth parted in shock as the riding crop clattered uselessly onto the priceless Persian rug.
“You—!” he choked out, raising a hand as if to strike me across the face.
I didn't flinch. I simply tilted my head and let out a low, mocking laugh that cut through the heavy air of the suite like a razor.
“Go ahead,” I challenged, my voice dripping with lethal calm. “Hit the majority shareholder of Vance Global Holdings on our wedding night. Let’s see how fast your board of directors tears your precious empire to pieces.”
Dominic’s hand froze mid-air. His face drained of color, turning a sickly, pasty gray. For a terrifying, breathless second, the only sound in the room was the heavy ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner.
“What… what did you just say?” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly around the edges. The arrogant, untouchable heir was gone, replaced by a panicking boy who realized he had just stepped off the edge of a cliff.
I stepped past him, my silk train whispering across the floor, and walked straight toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. I reached up, unpinning the heavy diamond-encrusted veil from my hair, and let it drift down to the floor like discarded trash.
“You thought you bought me, Dominic,” I said, turning back to face him with my arms crossed over the heavy corset of my gown. “You thought my grandfather’s failing logistics company made me an easy target. You thought by forcing this marriage, you’d secure the northern shipping lanes and wipe out your family’s mounting tax fraud.”
Dominic backed up a step, his back hitting the heavy oak door. “How… how do you know about that?”
“I don’t just know about it, Dominic,” I smiled, walking slowly toward the sleek mahogany desk where his laptop sat glowing in the dim light. “I audited it. Every single offshore account. Every single shell corporation. Every single illegal bribe your father paid to keep the Vance name out of federal custody.”
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I reached the desk, picked up his smartphone, and tapped the screen twice. A live feed flashed across the display—a secure conference call involving the federal prosecutor’s office, the head of the SEC, and three board members he thought were entirely loyal to him.
“Meet your new wedding guests,” I whispered sweetly.
