Chapter 10
“And furthermore,” Arthur continued smoothly, snapping his fingers.
One of his men handed him a folder.
Arthur tossed it onto the floor at Julian’s feet.
“Your investors didn’t bail you out, Mister Vance. My grandson acquired your debt. As of six p.m. tonight, Vance Logistics has been liquidated to cover your massive fraudulent offshore transfers. Warrants for your arrest were signed an hour ago.”
Right on cue, the heavy ballroom doors swung open.
Three plainclothes detectives entered, badges in hand, heading straight for Julian.
“No—wait! Saraphina, help me!”
Julian’s suave facade shattered completely as the detectives grabbed his arms and snapped handcuffs around his wrists.
He thrashed and begged, but the crowd stepped back in disgust as he was dragged out of the ballroom.
I looked at Saraphina.
She was shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face and ruining her perfect makeup.
She took a step toward me.
“Alex, I… I didn’t know. Julian manipulated me. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. Please, can we… can we…”
“What, Saraphina?” I interrupted, my voice soft but edged with chilling finality. “Start over? Go back?”
I reached out and took Isabella’s hand.
She intertwined her fingers with mine and stepped closer.
The contrast was stark.
Isabella stood tall, radiant, and loyal beside me.
Saraphina stood broken, drowning in the consequences of her own arrogance.
“You made your choice a year ago, Saraphina,” I said. “And I made mine. I don’t hate you. You just don’t matter to me anymore.”
Saraphina crumpled.
Right there in the middle of the ballroom, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands, weeping for the life, the love, and the empire she had thrown away for a counterfeit.
I turned away from her and guided Isabella toward the terrace.
The air outside was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of the ocean and the vibrant pulse of the city below.
Isabella leaned against the railing, looked up at the stars, then turned her dark, mesmerizing eyes toward me.
“So,” she murmured, a playful, breathless smile dancing on her lips, “sole heir to the Thorn-Sterling empire. Does this mean I’m the one dating a kept man now?”
I chuckled, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close.
“Only if you can afford me.”
She laughed, bright and beautiful, a sound that drowned out the noise of the gala behind us.
Then she leaned in and kissed me.
As our lips met, I knew the original plot of the book was truly dead and buried.
I wasn’t a tragic side character anymore.
I was the author of my own life.
And my story was only just beginning.