Chapter 6 - The Park Avenue Viper Den
The Vance family estate on Park Avenue smelled of old money, polished mahogany, and suffocating arrogance. Five years ago, I used to walk down these grand hallways feeling like an imposter, a scholarship girl from Queens who had dared to fall in love with the heir to a real estate dynasty. Tonight, as the butler opened the double doors to the formal dining room, I walked in in a tailored crimson designer suit, wearing diamond studs I had bought with my own money.
At the head of the long dining table sat Eleanor Vance, matriarch of the family, looking like a queen carved out of glacial ice. To her right sat Victoria, looking smug and triumphant until her eyes locked onto me. The champagne flute in Victoria's hand trembled slightly, splashing a drop of vintage Dom Pérignon onto the white linen tablecloth.
"What is the meaning of this, Julian?" Eleanor demanded, setting her silver fork down with a sharp click. "Why did you bring this woman into my home?"
"She is the mother of my children, Mother," Julian said, his voice dangerously calm as he pulled out a chair for me directly across from Victoria. He sat at the head of the table opposite his mother, his eyes scanning the room like a predator. "Three children who turn five next month. Triplets."
Eleanor’s face didn't move a muscle, but her knuckles turned white against her napkin. "That is impossible. She signed a medical release confirming the termination of the pregnancy. We compensated her handsomely for her discretion."
"You paid a lawyer to harass a woman in intensive care!" I spoke up, my voice cutting through the dining room like a blade. "I never took a dime of your hush money, Eleanor. And I never signed a medical release. Your fixer forged my signature after I refused your filthy check."
May you like
"You lying gold-digger!" Victoria snapped, standing up from her chair, her eyes darting nervously toward Julian. "Julian, darling, don't listen to her! She's fabricating this entire story to blackmail your family! She hid those children to extort you!"
"Did she?" Julian asked, turning slowly to look at his fiancée. His gaze was glacial. "Then why did my private investigator spend the entire afternoon checking hospital admission logs from five years ago? Logs that show Clara was admitted to the maternity ward at St. Jude’s under her maiden name on the exact night you told me she had flown to Paris with another man?"
