Chapter 1 - The Fall of the Queen

Victoria sat in the cold, stainless-steel interrogation room, crossing her legs and looking completely unbothered. Her high-priced defense attorney, a slick man in a shark-skin suit, sat beside her.

"My client is the victim of a severe misunderstanding," the lawyer began smoothly as Detective Russo entered the room. "Clara Vance has a history of mental instability. She ran away. She came back on her own accord and begged Victoria for a job to hide from Julian."

Russo didn't say a word. He just walked to the table and dropped a thick, heavy manila folder onto the metal surface.

"What's this?" Victoria asked, a hint of her arrogant smirk returning. "Fabricated evidence?"

The door to the interrogation room opened again. Julian walked in. He wasn't supposed to be there, but Julian Vance possessed the kind of wealth and power that made police precincts bend their own rules.

"That," Julian said, his voice deadly calm, "is the financial ruin of the Sterling family."

Victoria's smirk vanished. "You can't be in here."

"I own the bank that holds the mortgage on your parents' estate, Victoria. I own the logistics company your brother relies on for his business. And as of an hour ago, my legal team froze every single trust fund, offshore account, and shell corporation tied to your name." Julian leaned over the table, his eyes burning with black fire. "You are broke."

The lawyer cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. Vance, this is highly irregular—"

"Shut up," Julian snapped, not breaking eye contact with Victoria. "I have the security footage from the hidden cameras you didn't know I installed in the East Wing perimeter. I have the wire transfers you used to bribe my staff. I have the receipts for the heavy sedatives you bought on the black market."

Victoria's confident posture finally crumbled. Her shoulders slumped, and her hands began to shake.

"Why?" Julian demanded softly. "Why Clara?"

"Because she didn't deserve you!" Victoria suddenly shrieked, slamming her hands on the table, her mask of sanity slipping entirely. "She was a nobody! A middle-class girl with no pedigree! I stood by you for ten years, Julian! I built your company with you! I belonged in that house, not her! I wanted you to see what she really was—a peasant meant to scrub my floors!"

Julian stood up slowly, adjusting his cuffs. He looked at Detective Russo. "You got the confession on tape?"