Chapter 3 - The Toast to Murder
Back on the sprawling cliffside terrace of the Sterling Estate, Julian Vance and Chloe Mercer stepped back into the warmth of the primary living room, closing the heavy glass doors against the ocean wind. The room was a masterpiece of modern luxury, filled with priceless contemporary art, imported Italian marble, and sweeping views of the dark Pacific. To Julian, this room represented the finish line of a three-year deception. He had married me not for love, but because his own boutique investment firm was drowning in fifty million dollars of hidden debt, and my real estate and shipping consortium was the only balance sheet large enough to save him from federal bankruptcy.
Chloe walked over to the custom wet bar, her emerald silk gown shimmering under the recessed lighting. She picked up a crystal decanter of twenty-year-old single-malt scotch and poured two generous measures into heavy crystal tumblers.
“To the new master of the Sterling Empire,” Chloe said, walking back to Julian and handing him a glass with a triumphant, feline smirk. “You played the grieving, devoted husband perfectly for eight months, darling. When those police officers get here, just remember to let your voice crack when you describe how stressed she was about the pregnancy.”
Julian took a long, burning swallow of the scotch, feeling the warmth spread through his chest, replacing the lingering nervous adrenaline of the push. “The police won't be a problem. Victoria had no close family left, her parents are dead, and her corporate board consists of old men who only care about quarterly stock dividends. As her legal spouse and the father of her deceased unborn child, I am the sole statutory heir under community property laws. Once the search teams dredge up her body—or declare her lost at sea—the entire trust automatically defaults to my signature.”
“What about her lawyer? That Russian bulldog, Elena Rostova?” Chloe asked, reclining onto the white velvet sectional sofa and pulling off her high heels. “She’s always looked at you like you were a piece of dirt on her shoes.”
“Elena works for whoever signs the corporate retainer checks,” Julian scoffed, setting his empty glass onto a polished marble console table. “Once I present the death certificate to the probate judge next week, I’ll fire her and replace the entire legal department with my own people from downtown. By the time the autumn charity gala season starts, nobody will even remember Victoria Sterling’s name. You’ll be wearing her diamonds, residing in her master suite, and hosting her board members.”
May you like
The distant, rising wail of emergency sirens echoed along the coastal highway outside the estate gates. Julian took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his hair to intentionally mess it up, and untucked his tailored dress shirt to appear disheveled and frantic.
“Showtime,” Julian whispered, turning to Chloe with a rehearsed, tear-filled expression. “Get upstairs to the guest suite and stay out of sight until the initial interviews are over. Let me handle the detectives. Our clean slate starts tonight.”
