Chapter 10
"Do not speak to me," Mr. Blackwood commanded, his voice slicing through the air like a blade.
Julian’s mouth snapped shut. He looked around the ballroom, desperately seeking an ally among the senators, CEOs, and socialites he had spent years courting. Every single one of them averted their eyes. In the hierarchy of power, Julian Vance was a king of a small pond. Marcus Blackwood was the ocean that was about to drown him.
Mr. Blackwood turned his head slightly, speaking to the head of his personal security detail, who had materialized from the shadows near the terrace doors.
"Lock the doors," Mr. Blackwood said smoothly. "No one leaves this ballroom until I am satisfied."
The heavy mahogany doors at the entrance were pulled shut with a resounding thud. The sound echoed like a vault sealing shut.
Eleanor stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her father. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated her face, no longer the submissive wife, but a woman stepping fully into her birthright. She looked at Julian, taking in his trembling hands and his sweat-slicked forehead.
"I told you, Julian," Eleanor said, her voice perfectly even. "I survived your family. You will not survive mine."
"Eleanor, please," Julian begged, his American accent cracking into a pathetic, whiny pitch. He fell to his knees on the polished marble floor, utterly abandoning his pride. "I'm your husband! We can fix this! I'll divorce her, I'll give you everything! Just don't let him hurt me!"
Genevieve, realizing Julian was sacrificing her to save his own skin, let out a hysterical sob and sank to the floor beside him, burying her face in her hands.
Eleanor looked down at them with profound, unadulterated pity. "I don't want your money, Julian. I have my own."
Mr. Blackwood shifted Maya in his arms, turning his back on the pathetic display on the floor. He looked at Eleanor, a fierce, proud smile finally breaking through his terrifying facade.
"Are we finished here, Eleanor?" Mr. Blackwood asked gently. "Or would you like me to dismantle his empire tonight?"
Eleanor looked around the frozen ballroom, at the terrified elites and the broken man kneeling at her feet. She reached out and gently stroked Maya’s hair, feeling the little girl’s breathing finally slow to a calm, steady rhythm.
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"Take us home, Dad," Eleanor said softly. "We can dismantle him tomorrow."
Mr. Blackwood nodded, turning toward the terrace doors as his security detail formed a protective wall around them. They walked out of the bright, suffocating ballroom, leaving Julian and Genevieve kneeling on the marble, waiting for the inevitable destruction that would come with the dawn.
