Chapter 3 - The Price of a Silent Wife
By the fifth morning, Julian had completely recalibrated his strategy from feigned shock to corporate crisis management.
He entered my private recovery suite accompanied not by flowers this time, but by two senior legal partners from Vance Holdings’ premier firm.
The lawyers stood near the window like dark sentinels, clutching black leather briefcases that smelled faintly of high-priced cedar and expensive parchment.
Julian dragged an armchair close to my mattress, leaning in until the scent of his sandalwood cologne choked the antiseptic air.
He laid a thick stack of non-disclosure documents onto my lap, tapping the signature line with a gold fountain pen.
He spoke in low, measured tones, explaining that the police had already been told an intruder had broken through the penthouse terrace.
He claimed that his fingerprints on the kitchen knife had been explained away as an attempt to defend me after finding me on the floor.
If I signed the mutual non-disclosure agreement and corroborated his break-in narrative, five million dollars would be transferred to a private offshore trust in my name.
He added that for the sake of the twins, our family needed to project absolute solidarity to the shareholders of the Vance conglomerate.
I looked at the crisp white papers, feeling the stitches across my belly pull tightly against my skin with every controlled breath.
I asked him what would happen to Selena in this neat, sanitized fairy tale he was constructing for the evening news.
Julian didn't hesitate, calmly stating that Selena was an innocent bystander who had simply been traumatized by our marital friction.
He said Selena would be appointed executive director of the Vance Foundation to keep her close and shielded from public scrutiny.
The audacity of his proposal made my blood turn to ice, confirming that he valued his public image far more than the blood he had spilled.
I lowered my eyelashes, pretending to be frail, broken, and terrified of being abandoned with two unborn children to raise alone.
I whispered that I needed time to read through the sixty pages of legalese before my hands could hold the pen steady.
Julian smiled with triumphant condescension, patting my bruised knee through the blanket as if I were a child agreeing to bedtime.
He warned me that Vance Holdings' quarterly board meeting was scheduled for the coming Friday, and my silence was required before the market opened.
After he and his lawyers filed out of the room, the heavy silence was shattered by the sharp clicking of high heels outside the door.
Selena Cole slipped into the room unannounced, dressed in an ivory trench coat with huge designer sunglasses perched on her forehead.
She stood at the foot of my bed, her face devoid of the innocence she performed so masterfully whenever Julian was in the room.
She folded her arms and whispered that I was pathetic for thinking two bastards in my womb would keep Julian anchored to my side.
She leaned over my bed rails, telling me that Julian had visited her apartment every single night while I was lying in a medical coma.
She hissed that the Vance fortune belonged to her, that Julian was wrapped around her finger, and that I would leave this city with nothing.
I didn't argue, nor did I raise my voice to summon the nurses stationed right outside the door.
Instead, I reached slowly to my bedside nightstand, picking up the glass of ice water that had been left there an hour earlier.
I threw the freezing liquid directly into her face, soaking her designer blouse and ruining her meticulously contoured makeup in one motion.
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Selena gasped in furious shock, wiping her stinging eyes while spitting venomous threats about how Julian would ruin me for this.
I looked straight into her venomous eyes and told her that whatever Julian owned was half mine, and I intended to collect every single cent.
