Chapter 3
“Grandma is the one who gave me to the bad man,” Sophia finished, her terrified whisper carrying through the dead silence of the ballroom.
The words hung in the bright, cinematic light like a guillotine blade. Alexander felt a cold, murderous chill run down his spine, settling deep in his bones. He looked from his starving, filthy daughter to his mother, who was now scrambling to sit up, her elegant evening gown tangled around her heels.
"Alexander, do not listen to her!" Victoria shrieked, her rosy skin flushing a violent shade of crimson. "She is a liar! She is deeply disturbed! I sent her to the best private academies, but she kept running away! She belongs in an institution!"
"You sent her to an institution?" Alexander asked, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register. He shifted Sophia’s weight, holding her securely with his left arm while pointing his right index finger at his mother. "Look at her, Victoria! Look at her bare feet! She is eating moldy bread from the alleyway of the very hotel where you are hosting a hundred-thousand-dollar charity gala!"
A murmur of disgust rippled through the gala guests. Several men and women in their black-tie attire turned their backs on Victoria in sheer revulsion.
"Mr. Sterling," a voice interrupted. The hotel manager, flanked by two large security guards in black-and-white service uniforms, approached cautiously. "Sir, I must ask you to step into a private room. We cannot have violence in the main hall."
"If your men take one step closer to me, I will buy this hotel tomorrow and fire every single person who works here," Alexander stated, not even breaking his glare with Victoria. The manager instantly froze and signaled his guards to back down.
"Daddy, I want to go," Sophia whimpered, burying her face into his neck. "Please. The bad man might be here."
Alexander’s heart shattered all over again. He pressed a kiss to her matted hair. "No one is going to hurt you ever again, Sophia. I swear it on my life."
He looked back down at Victoria. She was clutching her pearl necklace, her eyes darting around the room, realizing her social empire had just burned to the ground in less than a minute.
"You have until morning to pack whatever you can carry out of my estate," Alexander commanded, his voice devoid of any familial warmth. "If I find you anywhere near my property by sunrise, I won't slap you. I will bury you."
Without waiting for a response, Alexander turned on his heel. He carried his daughter through the parted sea of shocked guests, leaving his mother weeping on the marble floor amidst the shattered crystal of her champagne glass.
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"Where are we going?" Sophia asked as they stepped into the quiet luxury of the main lobby.
"We are going up to the penthouse," Alexander promised. "And we are going to order everything on the menu."
