Chapter 7
As Alexander turned away, prepared to carry his daughter out of the toxic, glittering room, Victoria realized she was losing everything. The absolute control she had wielded over her son, the massive monthly stipends, the pristine public reputation—it was all evaporating under the bright, unforgiving cinematic lights of the ballroom.
"You are making a massive mistake, Alexander!" Victoria screamed, her voice echoing shrilly off the high ceilings. She took a frantic, stumbling step forward, her ruined emerald gown dragging heavily against the floor. "You think you can just walk away from me? I am the matriarch of the Sterling family! I built this empire alongside your father! You owe me your entire life!"
Alexander stopped. He didn't turn around immediately. He stood facing the heavy oak doors leading out to the main lobby, his broad shoulders rising and falling with slow, measured breaths.
"I owe you nothing," Alexander replied quietly, though his deep American accent carried clearly across the silent crowd.
"Elena was going to ruin you!" Victoria shouted, desperate to justify her hatred. "She was weak! She was trying to pull you away from the business! She wanted to take you and the child and move to the country! I had to protect our legacy!"
Alexander slowly turned back around. His fair, rosy skin had gone deathly pale. He stared at his mother, his sharp, intelligent eyes analyzing her frantic, unhinged outburst. The guests continued to watch, completely captivated by the unraveling of the powerful family.
"What do you mean, you had to protect our legacy?" Alexander asked, his voice dropping into a dark, inquisitive register.
Victoria froze. She realized she had said too much, her anger causing her tightly guarded secrets to spill over. "I... I simply meant that I advised her against it. I told her it was a foolish idea. And then she tragically passed away."
"She fell down a flight of stairs, Victoria," Alexander stated flatly. "In your house. While I was in Europe closing a merger. The police ruled it a tragic accident. A slip on a freshly waxed floor."
"And that is exactly what it was," Victoria insisted, though her eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding his intense gaze. "It was a terrible tragedy. A clumsy, unfortunate accident."
Sophia, nestled safely against Alexander’s chest, suddenly tensed. The four-year-old girl began to shake violently in his arms. The piece of stale bread slipped from her tiny, dirt-stained fingers and hit the carpet with a soft thud.
Alexander immediately felt the change in his daughter. "Sophia? What's wrong, baby?"
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Sophia didn't answer him. She slowly turned her head, her bright blue eyes locking onto the older woman covered in cake frosting. Her tiny chest heaved with rapid, terrified breaths.
"Sophia?" Alexander asked again, genuine alarm lacing his voice.
