Chapter 8
The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of wealth. Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hung from the ceiling, casting prisms of light over the cream of New York society.
Elena moved through the crowd like a robot. Wave. Smile. "Yes, the dress is Versace." "No, we haven't been to St. Barts this year."
Julian kept a tight grip on her waist. His thumb rubbed circles into her hip bone-a gesture that looked affectionate to outsiders but felt like a threat to her.
"Ah, the Sterlings!" A reporter from Vanity Fair cornered them near the champagne tower. "You two look radiant. Any truth to the rumors of a nursery being renovated?"
Julian beamed. "We are certainly hoping for good news soon. Family is everything to us."
Elena felt nausea roll in her stomach. She nodded stiffly, unable to speak.
"Excuse us," Julian said. "I see the Senator."
He dragged her toward a group of politicians. As soon as he was engaged in conversation, his grip loosened. He was distracted by power.
Elena seized the moment. "I'm going to get a drink."
Julian didn't even look at her. "Don't wander."
Elena slipped away. She didn't go to the bar. She scanned the room until she found a grey-haired man in a tuxedo. Robert Vance. Her father's cousin and former lawyer.
She approached him carefully, waiting until he was near a large fern in the corner. "Robert."
He turned, smiling, but the smile faltered when he saw the desperation in her eyes. "Elena. You look... lovely."
"I need help," she whispered, keeping her voice low, her back to the room. "I need a lawyer. A shark. I want to leave Julian."
Robert looked around nervously. He took a step back. "Elena... honey... I can't."
"Why not? You're family."
"I work for a firm that represents Sterling Corp now," Robert hissed. "Conflict of interest. And besides... Julian has retained the top three divorce firms in the city just for 'consultation.' You won't find anyone decent to take the case."
"What about dad?" Elena pleaded. "He's threatening to stop the payments."
Robert sighed, looking at his shoes. "Elena, it's worse than that. The SEC investigation into your father's company... it's currently 'paused' because Sterling legal is holding back certain documents. If you leave Julian, those documents get released. Your father won't just die; he'll die a convicted felon in a prison hospital."
Elena felt the room spin. It wasn't just money. It was her father's legacy. His name.
"I'm sorry," Robert said, patting her shoulder with a clammy hand. He hurried away, afraid to be seen with her too long.
Elena stood alone in the middle of the crowded room. She felt naked. Defenseless.
She needed air. She walked toward the terrace doors. They were slightly ajar.
She was about to push them open when she heard voices. High, tittering laughter.
"Did you see her dress?" It was Vanessa Lloyd. Julian's childhood friend, a woman who had wanted to be Mrs. Sterling for a decade. "Trying way too hard."
"She looks tired," another voice chimed in.
"She looks like what she is," Vanessa sneered. "A broke charity case. Julian told me he's only keeping her around for the breeding stock. Once she pops out an heir, she'll be shipped off to a sanitarium. Poor thing is unstable, you know."
The women laughed.
Elena froze. Her hand hovered over the door handle. Breeding stock. Sanitarium.
Tears pricked her eyes. Not of sadness, but of humiliation. They all knew. They were all laughing.
She turned blindly, wanting to run, and collided hard with a solid wall of black wool.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders to steady her.
She looked up.
Sebastian.
He was standing right behind her. He had heard everything.
His face was a mask of stone, but his eyes were blazing. He looked down at her, his gaze dropping to her trembling lips, then to the bruise she had tried so hard to hide.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest.
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