Chapter 4: The Backer He Couldn't Afford

By six o'clock in the evening, the news of my departure had reached the top floor of the Vance Group Headquarters.

In the executive office on the eightieth floor, Damien was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, staring intently at his computer monitor. His coat was discarded over the back of his chair, his tie loosened at his collar.

His personal assistant, Mark, stood in front of the desk, sweating nervously as he delivered his report.

"Mr. Vance..." Mark stammered, trembling slightly under Damien's sharp gaze. "Mrs. Vance... I mean, Miss Sophia... she left the villa two hours ago. She took a single suitcase, left her house keys on the table, and walked out."

Damien didn't stop typing on his keyboard. A cold, dismissive smirk curled on his lips.

"She took a taxi?" Damien asked smoothly. "Did she try to use her bank cards yet?"

"That's... that's the strange part, sir," Mark swallowed hard, clutching his tablet tightly. "When we requested the bank to freeze her accounts, the system rejected the order. The bank representative said Miss Sophia's accounts do not belong to our credit tier. In fact... when we tried to override the lock, our corporate credit rating was lowered by two points by the Swiss Central Bureau."

Damien's fingers froze over his keyboard. He raised his head slowly, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp slits.

"What did you just say?" Damien asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Lowered our corporate credit rating? Over a middle class woman's bank card?"

"Yes, sir," Mark said, his voice trembling. "And... and there's more. When she left the gated estate, she didn't take a taxi. She was picked up by a custom built, bulletproof Maybach bearing the registration plate of the Sterling Family."

Damien let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, leaning back in his leather executive chair.

"The Sterling Family?" Damien scoffed, waving his hand in dismissive irritation. "Mark, have you lost your mind? The Sterling Family is the head of the global maritime syndicate in Europe. They don't even operate in Crestview City unless they're dealing with state governors or multinational CEOs. Why would a low class orphan like Sophia have any connection to the Sterlings?"

"I... I don't know, sir," Mark stammered. "But the security footage at the gate confirmed the vehicle. And five minutes ago, we received an urgent notification from the Crestview City Land Registry."

"What notification?"

"The Vance Villa..." Mark whispered, looking up with pale cheeks. "The land deed for your residential estate... was bought out this afternoon. The new owner is the Sterling Global Corporation."

Damien slammed his palms onto his mahogany desk, standing up so abruptly his heavy leather chair flew backward against the floor to ceiling glass windows.

"That's impossible!" Damien roared, his handsome face darkening with sudden rage. "That estate is worth eighty million dollars! How could anyone buy out the land deed without my authorization?"

Before Mark could answer, the heavy double doors of Damien's executive suite were pushed open without a knock.

A tall, impeccably dressed man walked into the office. He was in his early thirties, possessing sharp, refined facial features, piercing blue eyes, and an aura of absolute dominance that instantly filled the entire room. He wore a navy blue tailored suit with a platinum crest pinned to his lapel, the symbol of the Sterling family council.

Behind him stood two international corporate lawyers carrying heavy leather briefcases.

Damien's eyes widened slightly in recognition. The man standing in front of him was Julian Sterling, the youngest executive chairman of Sterling Global, a ruthless financial tycoon whose name alone could cause stock markets across three continents to fluctuate.

Even Damien Vance, who sat atop Crestview City's local financial empire, was nothing more than a small fish compared to the ocean sized leviathan that was Julian Sterling.

"Mr. Sterling?" Damien asked, forcing himself to maintain his composure as he stepped around his desk. "To what do I owe the honor of a sudden visit from the Sterling Group? If this is regarding our joint port development contract, my legal team—"

"I'm not here for a contract, Mr. Vance," Julian interrupted smoothly, his voice deep, cool, and dripping with dangerous authority.

Julian walked over to the leather sofa in the middle of the room and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. He didn't offer to shake Damien's hand. He looked at Damien as if he were looking at an insect beneath his boots.

"I am here on behalf of my younger sister," Julian said, taking a sleek gold fountain pen from his breast pocket and casually tapping it against his palm.

Damien frowned tightly. "Your sister? I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting Miss Sterling."

Julian raised his eyes, fixing Damien with an icy, lethal glare that made the air in the room drop by ten degrees.

"You've been married to her for three years, Damien," Julian murmured softly.

Damien's breath caught in his throat. His mind instantly went blank, as if a bomb had exploded inside his head.

"What... what did you say?" Damien stammered, his usual arrogant composure completely shattering into pieces.

"Sophia Sterling," Julian said, pronouncing each syllable with absolute clarity. "The sole heiress of the Sterling family's global estate. Three years ago, she hid her identity to marry a local businessman named Damien Vance because she foolishly believed he was a good man."

Julian stood up slowly, stepping right up to Damien until they were standing face to face.

"For three years, my family stayed quiet because my sister asked us not to interfere in her happiness," Julian whispered, his voice dark and deadly. "We watched you neglect her. We watched your mother insult her. We watched you stand outside a delivery room with another woman while my sister lost her child alone."

Damien felt as if he had been struck by a physical bolt of lightning. His face turned ghostly pale, his hands trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

Sophia... is a Sterling?

The helpless, poor girl with no family backing... was the heiress of the world's most powerful financial empire?

Julian reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a fresh copy of the divorce agreement, and slapped it hard against Damien's chest, the exact same gesture I had made at the hospital hours earlier.

"Sign the divorce papers, Damien," Julian commanded, his eyes burning with absolute coldness. "If you don't sign them by tomorrow morning... I will take the Vance family down before the sun sets.”