Chapter 6 - The Counter-Strike
The psychological warfare had officially shifted from the boardroom to the palace walls. Alexander didn't allow Harrison to take Elena. Within twenty minutes, a battalion of Sterling attorneys had filed an emergency stay of execution, citing a lack of verified chain of custody for the evidence found in the palace.
However, the public relations damage was done. The news networks were already broadcasting leaked photos of the amber vial, painting Elena as a predatory servant who had manipulated a billionaire’s aging mother.
"They want to isolate us, Alexander," Margaret said from her armchair in the study, her face pale but her resolve strong. "They know that if they create enough public noise, the board of directors will force you to step down from the Sterling Group to protect the stock price."
Elena sat at the table, her head in her hands. "I should leave, Mr. Sterling. If I stay, I am destroying everything your family has built. They are using my brother's medical bills as a weapon against me."
"You aren't going anywhere, Elena," Alexander said, standing by the fireplace, his fingers tracing the golden crest on the mantelpiece. He walked over to her, pulling her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up into his fierce, unyielding gray eyes. "For three years, people have tried to find a flaw in my armor. They thought it was my money, my shipping lines, my buildings. But they were wrong. My only vulnerability was that I was fighting alone."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping into an intimate, intense register that caused Elena’s heart to hammer against her ribs. "When you stopped that hand at the gala, you didn't just save my mother. You showed me what real loyalty looks like. I am not going to let a pack of wolves tear down the first real thing that has entered this house in a decade."
Alexander turned to Marco, who was waiting by the door. "Did you trace the source of the bank transfer?"
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"Yes, Mr. Sterling," Marco smiled, a cold, predatory look in his eyes. "The dummy corporation belongs to a shell company registered in Panama. The primary signatory is Victoria Vance's personal accountant. And the laundry worker who planted the vial just confessed after we checked his phone logs. He was paid ten thousand dollars by Richard Vance's personal assistant."
"Good," Alexander said, a slow, lethal smile touching his lips. "Gather the media. It is time to hold a press conference in the main courtyard. Let them think they have cornered us. We are going to dismantle the Vance family in front of the entire world."
