Chapter 1 - The Call of War
The silence on the other end of the line was heavy,
and I could hear Victor's breathing,
it was slow,
deliberate,
and terrifying.
I stood in the center of the lobby,
feeling the stares of the elite,
but I no longer felt small.
Chloe was still smirking,
leaning her hip against a marble pillar,
unaware that she had just triggered an avalanche.
"Say that again,"
Victor whispered,
and I knew that tone,
it was the sound of a predator spotting its prey.
"Dominic has another family,
Victor,"
I said,
my voice not shaking even a little bit.
"He is upstairs right now,
celebrating with a fiancée and a son I didn't know existed."
"And your sister is standing in the lobby,
being threatened with security."
I heard a glass shatter on Victor's end,
followed by the sound of him standing up.
"Don't leave,"
he ordered,
his voice vibrating with a dark,
ancient fury.
"Stay exactly where you are,
Vivienne."
"I am calling Alexander and Marcus."
"The Sterling brothers are coming to collect their own."
I hung up the phone,
sliding it back into my purse with a click.
Chloe let out a mock sigh,
checking her gold watch.
"Are we done with the drama?"
she asked,
flipping her hair.
"Because the guests are starting to complain about the view."
I looked at her,
really looked at her,
and I felt a strange sense of pity.
"You think you know who he is,"
I said softly,
ignoring her insults.
"You think you’ve seen the top of the mountain."
"But you have no idea who has been holding the ladder for him."
Sophia tugged at my hand,
her little eyes wide and confused.
"Mommy,
is Victor coming?"
she asked,
her voice like a bell in the quiet hall.
"Yes,
sweetheart,"
I replied,
kneeling to fix her hair.
"Your uncles are coming to see your daddy."
Chloe laughed again,
a high-pitched,
irritating sound.
"Uncles?"
"What are they,
plumbers?"
"Construction workers?"
"Maybe they can fix the leak in your head."
I didn't answer her,
because at that moment,
the heavy oak doors of the ballroom burst open.
The music didn't stop,
but the atmosphere changed instantly.
The air grew cold,
and the laughter of the guests began to die down.
I looked up at the grand staircase,
where Dominic was standing,
holding a glass of vintage champagne.
He was laughing with a woman in a red silk dress,
a woman who looked like she belonged in a magazine.
Beside them was a boy,
roughly Sophia's age,
dressed in a miniature tuxedo.
Dominic looked happy,
he looked successful,
he looked like a man who had forgotten everything.
Then,
his eyes drifted down to the lobby.
He saw me.
He saw Sophia.
The glass in his hand didn't fall,
but his face went as white as the marble beneath his feet.
"Vivienne?"
he whispered,
though I couldn't hear him from that distance.
I stood my ground,
holding my daughter's hand,
wearing my simple coat,
and carrying the power of a name he was about to fear.
The Sterling storm was gathering,
May you like
and by sunrise,
Dominic's world would be a pile of ash.
