Chapter 3 - Wolves at the Gate
The gates swung open, allowing a sleek silver Bentley and a news broadcast van to roll up the cobblestone driveway. The vehicles came to a stop before the massive stone fountain at the center of the courtyard.
David stepped out of the passenger side of the Bentley, wearing a suit that was visibly wrinkled, his hair unwashed, but his face puffed up with manufactured indignation. He immediately turned toward the news camera crew as they set up their equipment.
Beside him stepped Julian Sterling—a man in his late fifties with slicked-back grey hair, wearing a pristine double-breasted suit and holding a silver-tipped walking cane.
I walked down the grand front steps of the mansion, flanked by Marcus and four Apex security officers dressed in sharp black suits. The morning sun reflected off my dark sunglasses.
"Sarah!" David yelled, pointing a finger at me as the camera light blinked red. "You think you can use your family's security goons to throw a husband out of his own home?! You think money makes you above the law?!"
Julian Sterling placed a soothing hand on David's shoulder, assuming the role of a benevolent mentor protecting an aggrieved young man.
"Director Sarah Vance," Julian said smoothly, his voice pitched for the microphone held nearby by a young reporter. "It is a tragedy to see a young woman, overcome by grief after her mother's unfortunate passing, make such rash, illegal decisions. Denying your husband access to his marital residence, freezing his accounts without due process... this is an abuse of power that the public deserves to know about."
The reporter thrust the microphone toward me. "Miss Vance, how do you respond to allegations that you used your private security firm to conduct an illegal eviction?"
I stopped at the bottom step, looking past the reporter, past the camera, directly into Julian Sterling’s eyes.
"David," I said quietly, ignoring the reporter entirely. "Did you tell Mr. Sterling that you changed the smart locks on this house while I was placing my mother into the ground?"
David flinched slightly, but quickly recovered, puffing out his chest. "You were neglectful! You were hiding away in a hospital for weeks!"
"Did you tell him," I continued, taking a step toward them, "that you brought your mistress into my home, drank my mother's wine, and threw my clothes onto the porch in plastic trash bags?"
The reporter turned her head toward David, her eyebrows raised in sudden interest.
"That's a lie!" David stammered, panic flashing across his face. "She's lying to protect her public image!"
"I don't lie, David," I said softly. I gestured to Marcus, who held up a black leather tablet. "And neither do the security servers of Apex Command."
With a single tap from Marcus, the large outdoor digital screen beside the garage doors—normally used for displaying estate announcements during galas—flickered to life.
In crisp, high-definition 4K video, footage from the master suite played for everyone in the courtyard to see: David and Jessica opening champagne while my mother’s obituary was being read on the news in the background, followed by David entering the smart-lock app and revoking my access codes with a malicious smirk.
The camera operator instantly swung his lens away from me and focused entirely on the outdoor screen, capturing every second of the footage.
Julian Sterling’s face turned from calm arrogance to absolute granite. He looked at David as if he were a piece of trash stuck to his expensive leather shoes.
"What is the meaning of this, David?" Julian hissed under his breath.
"Julian, wait! It’s taken out of context—" David squeaked.
May you like
"Furthermore," I interrupted, my voice ringing out clear across the courtyard, "since Mr. Sterling has taken such a deep, personal interest in my family’s domestic affairs, perhaps the press would like to know why Sterling Global Holdings transferred two hundred thousand dollars to David's private account in Panama three days before our wedding five years ago?"
Julian Sterling froze. The color drained from his face so fast it looked as though he had suffered a stroke.
