My husband’s mistress grabbed me by the hair in a private makeup room and poured an entire bottle of foundation down the front of my white gown. / Chapter 44 / 62

Chapter 44 - The Scent of Gardenias

I stopped three paces from the edge of the desk, refusing to let my pulse betray me. Julian remained anchored in the doorway, his silhouette blocking the only landward exit, the muzzle of his firearm aimed dead center between Valerie’s shoulder blades.

"You let Marcus Kane bury an empty coffin," I said, my voice dropping into that chilling, quiet register that had once made boardrooms go silent. "You watched from the shadows while Daniel took our mother’s legacy, tore it to shreds, and spent five years trying to drive me into an early grave."

Valerie didn't flinch at the sight of the gun. She took a slow, deliberate sip of the amber liquid, then set the glass down onto the leather-bound ledger with a soft, resonant click.

"Daniel was an idiot with an expensive tailor, Serena," she said smoothly, leaning forward. "He was loud, vain, and remarkably easily manipulated. Did you really think he found that offshore dummy corporation in the Caymans on his own? Did you think that cheap little makeup-counter mistress of his accidentally discovered our mother’s secret lockbox in Geneva?"

A cold tremor rippled down my spine. The image of the private makeup room flashed behind my eyes—the sharp smell of cheap chemical foundation as the mistress poured the viscous fluid down the front of my white gown, humiliating me before hundreds of socialites while Daniel smirked in the corner.

"It was you," I whispered, the realization locking into place like the tumbler of a vault. "You fed them the codes. You funded Daniel’s hostile takeover. You gave the mistress the keys to the penthouse."

"I needed Daniel to strip away your illusions," Valerie replied, her hazel eyes flashing with an ancient, bitter fire. "You were too soft, Serena. Father raised you to be a polite society hostess, managing charity galas and signing whatever paperwork your charming husband put in front of you. You would have bled our family dry within a decade out of sheer naivety. So I broke you. I gave Daniel just enough rope to hang himself, and just enough leverage to push you to the brink of the abyss."

She stood up slowly, smoothing the creases of her immaculate silk lapels. Her gaze drifted over the foundation stains and the dried crimson smears on my torn dress.

"And look at you now," Valerie continued, her voice dropping to an intimate, hypnotic cadence. "You destroyed Daniel. You bankrupted his syndicate. You brought seventy million dollars of liquidated assets back under the Montgomery name in forty-eight hours. You proved yourself worthy of the bloodline. But now, the performance is over. The elder daughter is back. Step aside, Serena. Give me the master cipher for the Harbor House vault, and I’ll let you walk away with enough money to live comfortably on some quiet Mediterranean island."

"And if I refuse?" I asked, my voice as hard as the granite foundations beneath our feet.

Valerie smiled, a terrible, victorious smirk. She reached into her blazer and withdrew a sleek, matte-black detonator switch.