Chapter 12: Sleeping with the Enemy
Downtown, the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles continued to buzz with dark secrets.
Vanessa paced the floor of a lavish, dimly lit hotel suite in Beverly Hills. She was biting her manicured nails, her phone gripped tightly in her other hand. Marcus and his thugs had failed. Emily had escaped. Worse, Daniel had been the one to rescue her.
The suite door clicked open.
A tall, distinguished man with silver hair and a tailored Italian suit walked in, carrying a leather briefcase. Julian Vance.
“You’re pacing, Vanessa,” Julian said calmly, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter on the minibar. “It’s unbecoming of a Kensington.”
“Don’t patronize me, Julian!” Vanessa snapped, spinning around. “Daniel knows! He took the Thorne girl! If she talks, if she tells him about the money—”
“She doesn’t know where the money is,” Julian interrupted smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. “Arthur Thorne was a paranoid sociopath. He wouldn’t leave his millions to a teenage girl and a comatose wife.”
“She has a ledger!” Vanessa shrieked, her facade crumbling. “Marcus told me she pulled something out of her pocket before Daniel’s security showed up. What if she has proof? What if she has your name?”
Julian froze, the whiskey glass hovering near his lips. The smug, patrician mask slipped, revealing a ruthless, cold-blooded predator underneath.
“A ledger?” Julian repeated, his voice dangerously low.
“Yes! If Daniel gets his hands on it, you go to federal prison, and my family goes bankrupt. You promised to protect my debts if I kept you informed on Daniel’s personal life!” Vanessa stepped closer, her chest heaving. “You need to fix this.”
Julian set the glass down slowly. He walked over to Vanessa, grabbing her by the chin with a grip tight enough to bruise.
“You listen to me, you spoiled little brat,” Julian hissed. “I spent ten years building Sterling Enterprises back from the brink, skimming just enough off the top to build my empire. I am not going to let a glorified maid and a heartbroken billionaire ruin my life’s work.”
He released her, pulling out his encrypted smartphone.
“Where is Daniel right now?” Julian demanded.
“I don’t know! He didn’t go to the penthouse, and he didn’t go back to the main estate.”
Julian dialed a number. “Security Control. This is Vance, Clearance Level Alpha. Ping the GPS tracker on Daniel Sterling’s Bentley. I don't care if it's off the grid. Find it.”
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He hung up the phone and looked at Vanessa, a sinister smile creeping across his face.
“Go home, Vanessa. Pack your bags for Paris. I am going to pay my godson a visit, and by tomorrow morning, Emily Thorne will be nothing but a tragic accident.”
