Chapter 2 - The Vulture’s Circle
"What is the meaning of this?" Victoria demanded, her voice cutting through the suffocating tension like shattered glass. She clicked her Louboutin heels across the hardwood floor, marching directly to Julian’s side and sliding her manicured hand possessively onto his arm. "Julian, darling, why are security guards not escorting this... this woman and her prop out of the building?"
Julian didn't flinch, but he didn't pull away from Victoria either—at least not yet. His gaze remained locked on Rose, who had drifted back to sleep, entirely oblivious to the predatory wolves circling her.
"Victoria, shut your mouth," Julian said, his tone dangerously low. It wasn't loud, but the sheer iciness in his voice made Victoria recoil as if she’d been burned.
"Excuse me?" Victoria gasped, her face flushing crimson with humiliation. "Are you seriously entertaining this peasant’s scam? Look at her! She shows up out of nowhere with a random infant on the exact day of our final settlement, crying wolf about a secret child! It's a textbook extortion scheme, Julian. Harrison, tell her!"
Harrison Vance eagerly jumped in, sensing a lifeline to regain his composure. "Indeed, Mr. Hartwell. Legally speaking, this child holds no recognized status. Even if—hypothetically speaking—there were any truth to Mrs. Hartwell's wild claims, paternity cannot be established by dramatic theatricals in a boardroom. We will require court-ordered DNA testing, background checks, and months of litigation. In the meantime, the divorce decree stands ready for your signature."
Harrison reached across the table, tapping the gold pen against the paper. "Just sign, Mr. Hartwell. Let us sweep this sordid little interruption under the rug."
I felt a cold fire ignite deep within my chest. For a year, I had starved, worked seventy-hour weeks while nursing a newborn, and wept silent tears into my pillow while Julian lived like a king on magazine covers. I wasn't about to let some corporate shark dismiss my daughter as a 'sordid little interruption.'
"You want a DNA test, Mr. Vance?" I asked, my voice ringing clear and steady through the massive room. I stepped forward, setting my battered leather diaper bag down on the edge of the mahogany table with a sharp thud.
Everyone flinched at the sound.
"You won't have to wait months," I continued, unzipping the side pocket and pulling out a sterile, clinical-grade paternity kit I had purchased that very morning just in case they tried to play games. I tossed the box right on top of Julian's divorce papers. "I had it pre-authorized by a certified independent lab. Swab his cheek right now, in front of everyone. Let's settle it before lunch."
Victoria let out a harsh, nervous laugh. "Are you out of your mind? You expect Julian to participate in this circus? Julian, if you let this woman make a mockery of us—of our future—our engagement is over."
It was the ultimate ultimatum. Victoria Sterling represented a merger of two multi-billion-dollar dynasties. Her family’s media empire was the final puzzle piece Julian needed to launch his global tech monopoly next quarter. Marrying her was a business necessity; acknowledging me, let alone an unexpected heir, could tank his stock value overnight.
The entire boardroom held its breath. Fifty pairs of eyes shifted back and forth between Victoria’s furious glare and Julian’s frozen silhouette.
Julian slowly turned his head away from Victoria. His eyes met mine. There was a war raging behind them—ambition, shock, guilt, and something deeply buried that looked terrifyingly like regret.
"Julian..." Victoria hissed, her voice dropping an octave as she tightened her grip on his sleeve. "Choose wisely."
Julian exhaled slowly. He reached down, picked up the sterile swab kit from the table, and ripped open the plastic packaging with his bare hands.
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"Julian, no!" Victoria shrieked.
Ignoring her entirely, Julian turned to Harrison Vance. "Get a notary and two independent medical witnesses in here immediately. We are doing this right now."
