Chapter 8 - The Broken Crown
Victoria stumbled frantically out of the dark panic room, her expensive crimson dress completely ruined by dust and sweat.
She looked wildly around the heavily destroyed study, her eyes finally landing on Julian’s bloody, terrifying figure.
"Did Silas successfully handle the terrifying intruders?" she asked foolishly, completely misreading the grim situation.
"Silas is permanently dead, Victoria, and his entire mercenary crew has been completely wiped off the face of the earth," Julian answered smoothly.
Victoria physically collapsed backward against the heavy bookshelves, sliding slowly down to the cold, hard floor in pure shock.
"Julian, please listen to me, he heavily manipulated me into helping him!" she cried hysterically, spinning a desperate, pathetic lie.
"You personally locked my chef in a freezing cellar and lied directly to her terrified child's face," Julian reminded her aggressively.
He picked up the secure telephone sitting on his grand mahogany desk and quickly dialed a highly private, encrypted number.
"Your powerful father's massive illegal weapons shipment has just been completely seized by my heavily armed loyalists at the downtown docks," Julian told her.
He spoke coldly into the phone, officially instructing his violent cartel associates to completely dismantle her family’s entire criminal operation.
"You are absolutely stripped of everything, Victoria," Julian said, dropping the heavy receiver back into the cradle.
"You will violently walk out of my front gates right now with absolutely nothing but the dirty dress on your back."
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He stepped aside, pointing aggressively toward the massive, heavily damaged front doors of the sprawling compound.
She opened her mouth to argue, but the cold, dead look in his eyes promised immediate, brutal death if she hesitated.
