Chapter 6 - Blood in the Water
The following morning broke over the Manhattan skyline in shades of steel gray and cold rain. The financial papers were already having a field day. *The Wall Street Journal*, *Bloomberg*, and *The New York Times* all ran front-page headlines detailing the dramatic collapse of Ethan Vance’s career:
*“EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES: HEIRESS CRUSHES HUSBAND’S FRAUDULENT ASCENT AT AURELIA GALA.”*
By 9:00 AM, Aurelia stock—which had briefly plunged four percent during the initial chaos—had rebounded sharply, surging eight percent after Samuel released the official statement confirming that I was assuming the sole role of Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of the Board. The market didn't want Ethan; they wanted the bloodline that built the company.
I sat in the corner office on the top floor of Aurelia Tower, dressed in an immaculate charcoal-gray tailored maternity suit. My hair was swept into a sleek chignon, and for the first time in months, the exhaustion that had weighed down my bones felt replaced by raw, unyielding clarity.
The double doors to my office swung open. Marcus, the head of my executive security team, stepped in. His jaw was tight.
"Elena," Marcus said, keeping his voice low. "We have a situation at the ground floor entrance."
I didn't look up from the financial audit I was reviewing. "Is it the press?"
"No. It’s Ethan. And his mother." Marcus grimaced. "Ethan was released on bail an hour ago. Someone posted a five-hundred-thousand-dollar cash bond for him. He and Agnes are in the main lobby, demanding to see you. Ethan is screaming that he still owns fifty percent of your marital assets and that security has no right to bar him from the premises."
I slowly closed the folder and looked at Marcus. "Who posted his bail?"
Ethan had zero personal liquidity. All his private accounts had been frozen, and his luxury credit cards were dead plastic. Agnes didn't have five hundred dollars, let alone half a million in liquid cash.
"We’re tracking the wire transfer right now," Marcus replied. "It originated from an offshore shell account linked to Ross Capital."
A sharp chill ran down my spine.
*Julian Ross.*
Julian Ross was the predatory hedge-fund titan who had spent the last five years trying to orchestrate a hostile takeover of Aurelia Group. My late father had blocked him at every turn, publicly humiliating Ross on multiple occasions. If Julian Ross had stepped in to bail Ethan out, this betrayal wasn't just a messy marital affair—it was a calculated corporate assassination.
"Bring them up," I said quietly.
May you like
Marcus frowned in concern. "Elena, you’re eight months pregnant. Ethan is unstable right now. He’s cornered, desperate, and—"
"Bring them up to the secondary conference room," I commanded, standing up slowly and smoothing the fabric over my stomach. "Station four armed guards behind the door. I want to look my husband in the eye and see exactly what Julian Ross bought when he paid for his leash."
