PART 2.
“You piece of trash!”
The scream shattered the elegance of the Vanderbilt Palace ballroom.
Chocolate dripped from Victoria’s face while hundreds of guests stared in stunned silence.
Then Julian Vance rushed forward, seized his bride’s arms, and stared at Victoria with naked terror.
“She’s my sister,” he said.
The room froze.
Julian swallowed hard.
“She owns this place.”
For several seconds, Chloe Sterling did not seem to understand what he had said.
Her lips parted.
Her eyes flicked from Julian to Victoria, then toward the vast ballroom surrounding them—the marble pillars, the sweeping staircase, the gold-leaf balconies, the chandeliers sparkling above nearly four hundred guests.
She gave a short, nervous laugh.
“What?”
Nobody joined her.
Julian slowly released her arms.
His face had become gray.
“The Vanderbilt Palace,” he said quietly.
“The hotel.
The ballroom.
The private residences upstairs.
The adjoining conference center.”
He looked at Victoria.
“All of it belongs to her.”
Chloe stared at him.
“No.”
Her voice came out strangely small.
Victoria finally reached for a linen napkin from a passing waiter’s tray.
The waiter was trembling so badly that the glasses beside it rattled.
Victoria gave him a reassuring nod.
“Thank you, Daniel.”
The waiter blinked.
She knew his name.
That tiny detail somehow made Chloe even paler.
Victoria carefully wiped chocolate from beneath one eye.
Around her, the ballroom remained perfectly still.
The humiliation Chloe had intended for Victoria had reversed direction with frightening speed.
Only ten minutes earlier, people had laughed awkwardly when Chloe accused the quiet woman in the blue dress of being jealous.
Five minutes earlier, several guests had watched Chloe order Victoria away from the head table.
And less than a minute ago, they had stood silently while Chloe threw cake in her face.
Now everyone suddenly wanted distance.
Two women near Chloe stepped backward.
A banker who had spent most of the evening flattering Chloe turned toward the bar as though he had never met her.
Even Chloe’s mother, Margaret Sterling, seemed temporarily incapable of speech.
But Chloe recovered first.
“You told me your sister lived overseas.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“I said she spends most of her time overseas.”
“You never said she owned the hotel!”
“I didn’t think I had to.”
“You didn’t think—”
“Chloe.”
Victoria’s voice was soft.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Yet Chloe stopped instantly.
Victoria folded the stained napkin in half.
“Would you like to know why Julian never told you?”
Julian’s head snapped toward her.
“Victoria.”
Something in his voice sounded like a warning.
Or perhaps a plea.
Victoria looked at him.
For the first time that evening, her expression shifted.
Only slightly.
But Julian noticed.
So did Chloe.
“Because,” Victoria continued, “my brother was hoping I wouldn’t come tonight.”
The whispers began immediately.
Chloe turned toward Julian.
“Is that true?”
Julian said nothing.
Victoria stepped past the ruined cake.
Her blue silk gown was badly stained now, but she moved as though she were walking into a board meeting rather than standing at the center of a public scandal.
“I received my invitation three days ago,” she said.
Chloe frowned.
“That’s impossible.
Invitations went out months ago.”
“I know.”
Victoria looked at Julian.
“Mine was never sent.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
Chloe stared at him.
“You said she declined.”
“I can explain.”
Victoria gave a faint smile.
“I’m sure you can.”
There was no warmth in it.
Julian lowered his voice.
“Not here.”
“Why not?”
Victoria glanced around the ballroom.
“These people came to celebrate your marriage.
They should understand what exactly they’re celebrating.”
Margaret Sterling finally stepped forward.
She was an elegant woman in her early sixties, wrapped in diamonds and social confidence.
“Enough,” she said.
Victoria turned toward her.
Margaret lifted her chin.
“This is my daughter’s wedding.
Whatever private disagreement exists between you and your brother can be handled tomorrow.”
Victoria studied her.
Then her gaze dropped to the enormous emerald necklace around Margaret’s throat.
A peculiar expression crossed Victoria’s face.
Recognition.
Margaret noticed.
Her hand instinctively rose toward the necklace.
Victoria’s smile disappeared.
“Where did you get that?”
Margaret stiffened.
“This?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“No,” Victoria said.
“It isn’t.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Julian looked sharply at Margaret.
Chloe moved protectively beside her mother.
“What are you talking about?”
Victoria stepped closer.
“That necklace belonged to my mother.”
Julian whispered, “Victoria, stop.”
She ignored him.
“My father gave it to her on their twentieth anniversary.
There are forty-two Colombian emeralds, each individually numbered in the insurance registry.”
Margaret’s confidence flickered.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
Victoria extended her hand.
“Take it off.”
Margaret stared at her.
“You cannot order me—”
“Take.
It.
Off.”
The words were still quiet.
Margaret hesitated.
That hesitation told Victoria everything.
Julian noticed it too.
“What did you do?” he asked.
Margaret looked toward him.
“Nothing.”
“Where did you get the necklace?”
“I told you.
It’s mine.”
Julian stepped closer.
“Where?”
Margaret’s eyes darted toward Chloe.
Chloe saw it.
And suddenly something changed in the bride’s expression.
“Mom?”
Margaret said nothing.
“Mom, where did you get it?”
Before she could answer, Victoria turned toward a tall man standing near one of the ballroom entrances.
“Mr.
Hale.”
A silver-haired man in a black suit immediately approached.
Most guests recognized him.
Arthur Hale was the general manager of the Vanderbilt Palace.
He had managed the property for nearly twenty years.
“Yes, Ms.
Vance?”
“Please lock the private elevators.”
Gasps rippled through the room.
Julian stepped forward.
“Victoria.”
“And inform security,” she continued, “that no one leaves with property belonging to the Vance family.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“You are threatening us?”
“No.”
Victoria looked directly at her necklace.
“I’m preventing theft.”
Chloe stared at her mother.
“Tell her she’s wrong.”
Margaret’s silence stretched.
“Mom.”
“I bought it.”
Victoria laughed once.
It was the first sound she had made all evening that contained genuine emotion.
“From whom?”
“A dealer.”
“Name him.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You purchased an emerald necklace worth approximately eleven million dollars, and you don’t remember who sold it to you?”
Someone near the back of the ballroom audibly whispered, “Eleven million?”
Margaret’s eyes flashed with anger.
“This is absurd.”
Victoria nodded toward Arthur Hale.
“Call Detective Mercer.”
Julian visibly flinched.
That reaction did not escape Chloe.
“Who is Detective Mercer?”
Victoria looked at her brother.
Julian’s gaze dropped.
“A financial crimes investigator,” Victoria said.
Chloe slowly turned toward Julian.
“Why does your sister know a financial crimes investigator?”
Nobody answered.
Then Victoria reached for a champagne glass.
She did not drink from it.
She simply held it between her fingers while studying the bubbles.
“My mother died four years ago,” she said.
“Six months later, several items disappeared from the family vault.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“Victoria.”
“One necklace.
Two antique watches.
A collection of bearer bonds.
Three paintings.”
“Stop.”
“And thirty-two million dollars held through private trusts.”
The room erupted into whispers.
Chloe stared at Julian as though he had transformed into a stranger.
“What does that have to do with him?”
Victoria lifted her eyes.
“I wondered the same thing.”
Julian took a step toward her.
“You promised.”
“No, Julian.
You promised.”
The pain in Victoria’s voice was subtle, but unmistakable.
“You promised me there was an explanation.”
“There is.”
“For four years?”
Julian’s fists tightened.
“I was protecting you.”
Victoria’s eyes became cold.
“From what?”
Julian opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
And that was when Chloe laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because fear had finally broken through her composure.
“This is insane.”
Everyone looked at her.
Chloe pointed at Victoria.
“She comes here, ruins my wedding, accuses my mother of theft, and all of you just stand there believing her?”
Victoria tilted her head.
“I ruined your wedding?”
“Yes!”
“You threw cake at me.”
“Because you were provoking me!”
“I spoke to you twice.”
“You were watching me.”
Victoria almost smiled.
“I was attending my brother’s wedding.”
“You were judging me!”
“No.”
Victoria set the champagne glass down.
“I was investigating you.”
Silence.
This time even Julian looked stunned.
Chloe blinked.
“What?”
Victoria reached into the small silver clutch she had carried all evening.
She removed an envelope.
Then she placed it on the nearest table.
“I did not come here because I wanted to celebrate.”
Julian stared at the envelope.
“What is that?”
Victoria’s eyes remained on Chloe.
“Do you remember a company called Norcrest Holdings?”
Chloe’s face changed.
Barely.
A tiny tightening around the mouth.
But Victoria saw it.
So did Julian.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Chloe said.
Victoria nodded.
“That’s unfortunate.”
She opened the envelope.
Inside were several photographs.
She spread them across the white tablecloth.
Bank documents.
Property records.
Security-camera images.
And one photograph of Chloe leaving a private bank in Geneva.
Julian picked it up.
His hands began to shake.
“When was this taken?”
Victoria answered.
“Six weeks ago.”
Chloe stepped forward.
“That proves nothing.”
Julian looked at the photograph again.
“You told me you were in Paris.”
“I was.”
“That’s Geneva.”
“I went for the day.”
“Why?”
Chloe hesitated.
Victoria supplied the answer.
“To access a numbered account controlled by Norcrest Holdings.”
Margaret’s face had gone completely still.
Victoria noticed.
“Would you like to tell them who owns Norcrest?”
Chloe’s breathing accelerated.
“Go to hell.”
Victoria smiled faintly.
“An understandable response.”
Julian looked between them.
“Who owns it?”
Victoria turned toward Margaret.
“Officially?”
Margaret said nothing.
“Officially,” Victoria continued, “Norcrest Holdings belongs to a private trust established in Luxembourg.”
She picked up another page.
“That trust belongs to a foundation in Panama.”
Another document.
“And the foundation is controlled by a law firm in Zurich.”
Julian frowned.
“So who controls the law firm?”
Victoria looked at Chloe.
“Her father.”
A murmur rolled across the ballroom.
Chloe’s father, Richard Sterling, had not attended the wedding.
According to Chloe, he was recovering from heart surgery at his estate in Connecticut.
Victoria had believed that story until forty-eight hours ago.
“Richard Sterling is in Switzerland,” she said.
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
“He landed in Zurich yesterday morning.”
“That’s impossible.”
Victoria pulled out another photograph.
Richard Sterling descending the stairs of a private jet.
Margaret’s face collapsed.
Chloe whispered, “Dad said he wasn’t coming.”
“He wasn’t,” Victoria replied.
“He was leaving.”
Julian stared at Chloe.
“Leaving from what?”
Victoria did not answer immediately.
Instead, she looked around the ballroom.
At the guests.
At the cameras.
At the wedding photographer standing frozen beside the dance floor.
Then she looked back at Julian.
“Your wedding was never the event.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
“It was the distraction.”
The words seemed to echo beneath the chandeliers.
Victoria walked toward the towering windows overlooking Manhattan.
“Four hundred guests.
Several senators.
CEOs.
Foreign investors.
Half the city’s society press gathered in one building.”
She turned.
“Every security officer focused here.
Every member of the family staff occupied.
Every executive on our board invited.”
Julian’s expression changed.
Victoria watched realization approach him.
Slowly.
Terribly.
“What happened?” he asked.
Victoria looked at her watch.
“Approximately seventeen minutes ago, someone attempted to transfer nine hundred and forty million dollars from Vance Meridian’s reserve account.”
The ballroom exploded.
Julian staggered backward.
“What?”
“Into eleven offshore accounts.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It would be.”
Victoria’s gaze hardened.
“Unless someone possessed your authorization key.”
Julian froze.
Chloe looked at him.
Then at Victoria.
“No.”
Julian instinctively reached beneath his tuxedo jacket.
His hand went to the inner pocket.
He searched.
Once.
Twice.
His breathing stopped.
“My key.”
Victoria said nothing.
Julian searched every pocket.
“It was here.”
Chloe slowly backed away.
Julian turned toward her.
“When did you—”
“I didn’t.”
“You were in my dressing room.”
“I’m your wife!”
“Not yet,” Victoria said.
The words cut through the panic.
Everyone turned toward her.
The ceremony had been scheduled for midnight.
It was 11:43.
Seventeen minutes remained.
Chloe stared at the clock on the far wall.
Then at Julian.
Then at Victoria.
Something sharp appeared in her expression.
Defiance.
“Fine.”
She pulled off her engagement ring.
“You want your precious family back?”
She threw it.
The diamond struck Julian’s chest and fell onto the floor.
“Take it.”
Julian stared at the ring.
Chloe laughed bitterly.
“You think I need him?”
Margaret whispered, “Chloe, be quiet.”
“No, Mom.”
“Enough.”
“No!”
Chloe turned toward the guests.
“You all want a show?
Fine!”
Her polished bridal mask was gone now.
The elegant socialite disappeared.
What remained was furious.
Raw.
Terrified.
“You people worship money like it makes you gods.
You think because her name is Vance she can humiliate everyone?”
Victoria watched her calmly.
Chloe pointed toward Julian.
“He lied to me for two years!”
Julian looked up.
“You lied first.”
“I did what I had to do.”
Margaret grabbed her daughter’s wrist.
“Chloe.”
Chloe ripped free.
“You said we had more time!”
Margaret’s face changed.
Victoria heard it.
So did Julian.
“More time for what?” he asked.
Margaret said nothing.
Chloe realized her mistake.
Too late.
Julian stepped toward them.
“What did she mean?”
Margaret backed away.
“Nothing.”
Victoria’s phone vibrated.
She looked at the screen.
A message.
Only four words.
TRANSFER BLOCKED.
SERVER BREACHED.
Her composure finally cracked.
Not with fear.
With realization.
She immediately looked toward Arthur Hale.
“Shut down the building network.”
Arthur reacted instantly.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Lights flickered.
Music-system screens went black.
The enormous digital displays near the stage vanished.
Guests pulled out phones.
No signal.
“What’s happening?”
Julian asked.
Victoria stared toward the ballroom doors.
“The transfer wasn’t the objective.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It was bait.”
“For what?”
Before Victoria could answer, every light in the ballroom went out.
Darkness swallowed the Vanderbilt Palace.
People screamed.
Glasses shattered.
Someone knocked over a table.
Julian shouted Victoria’s name.
Then the emergency lights came on.
Dim red illumination flooded the ballroom.
Victoria was no longer standing beside the window.
“Victoria!”
Julian pushed through the crowd.
Guests panicked around him.
Security officers rushed toward the entrances.
Then a woman screamed from the front of the room.
Everyone turned.
Margaret Sterling stood beside the head table.
Blood had drained from her face.
Her emerald necklace was gone.
And so was Chloe.
Julian stared.
“Where is she?”
Margaret looked toward the side exit.
“She ran.”
Victoria suddenly emerged from the darkness near the service corridor.
“Lock the doors.”
Arthur Hale shook his head.
“The electronic system is down.”
“Manual locks.”
Security moved.
Julian grabbed Victoria’s arm.
“Chloe has my authorization key.”
“I know.”
“You knew she might take it?”
“I suspected.”
“You let this happen?”
Victoria looked at him.
“No.”
Something in her voice stopped him.
“I let them believe it was working.”
Julian stared at her.
Then understood.
“The transfer.”
“Never touched the real account.”
His eyes widened.
“You created a decoy.”
Victoria nodded.
“For three months.”
“You used my wedding as a trap?”
“No.”
Her expression became unreadable.
“They used your wedding as a trap.”
She glanced toward the darkened service corridor.
“I simply arrived prepared.”
A security officer ran toward them.
“Ms.
Vance!”
Victoria turned.
“We found Mrs.
Sterling.”
Margaret shouted, “I’m standing right here!”
The officer shook his head.
“Not her.”
He looked at Julian.
“The bride.”
“Where?”
“Underground garage.”
Julian started moving.
The officer caught his arm.
“She’s gone.”
“What?”
“A black SUV exited through the south gate thirty seconds before the shutdown.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
“License plate?”
“Stolen.”
“Driver?”
“Unknown.”
Julian cursed.
Then the officer handed Victoria something.
“We found this beside the elevator.”
The emerald necklace.
Victoria stared at it.
Margaret’s face went pale.
Julian looked between them.
“Why would Chloe leave it?”
Victoria examined the clasp.
Her fingers stopped.
There was something attached beneath one emerald.
A tiny black device.
No bigger than a grain of rice.
She carefully removed it.
Arthur leaned closer.
“What is that?”
Victoria did not answer.
She knew exactly what it was.
A data key.
She looked toward Margaret.
“Where did you really get the necklace?”
Margaret’s shoulders sagged.
For the first time that evening, she looked old.
“I didn’t steal it.”
“Then who gave it to you?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Richard.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Julian stared at her.
“Right after our mother died?”
Margaret nodded.
Victoria went perfectly still.
“Why?”
Margaret began to cry.
Not theatrically.
Not elegantly.
Her entire body seemed to collapse beneath something she had carried too long.
“Because your mother gave it to him first.”
Victoria stopped breathing.
Julian whispered, “What?”
Margaret opened her eyes.
“Your mother knew Richard.”
Victoria stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
“They knew each other for decades.”
“No.”
“She trusted him.”
Victoria shook her head.
“My mother hated Richard Sterling.”
Margaret gave a broken laugh.
“That’s what she wanted you to believe.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“What are you saying?”
Margaret looked around the ballroom, then lowered her voice.
“Four years ago, Eleanor Vance discovered something inside your family company.”
Victoria’s pulse quickened.
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
“What did she discover?”
Margaret swallowed.
“She called Richard because she was afraid.”
“My mother was afraid of nothing.”
“She was afraid of someone.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked toward Julian.
Then at Victoria.
“I never knew his name.”
Victoria grabbed her wrist.
“But she did.”
“Victoria—”
“She must have told Richard.”
Margaret nodded reluctantly.
Victoria released her.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Switzerland.”
“That’s what he told Chloe.”
“And you?”
Margaret hesitated.
Victoria stepped closer.
“Where is Richard Sterling?”
Margaret whispered, “He’s supposed to be dead.”
The ballroom seemed to vanish around them.
Julian stared at her.
“What?”
Margaret’s lips trembled.
“Richard Sterling died eleven years ago.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Julian laughed in disbelief.
“That’s insane.
I met him.”
Margaret looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“No.”
Julian’s smile disappeared.
“You met someone using his name.”
Victoria felt a chill move down her spine.
Every investigation.
Every bank transfer.
Every hidden company.
Every false signature.
She had built her theory around Richard Sterling.
A living man.
A criminal partner.
A father helping his daughter steal from the Vance family.
But if Margaret was telling the truth—
Then Victoria had been investigating a ghost.
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
Impossible.
The network was still disabled.
She looked down.
An encrypted notification appeared on the screen.
UNKNOWN DEVICE CONNECTED.
Then another.
PRIVATE VAULT ACCESS REQUESTED.
Victoria’s blood went cold.
The family vault was not inside the Vanderbilt Palace.
It was forty-seven floors beneath Vance Meridian headquarters.
Across Manhattan.
Accessible through biometric security.
And currently sealed.
At least, it was supposed to be.
A third message appeared.
BIOMETRIC MATCH CONFIRMED.
Julian saw her expression.
“What?”
Victoria did not answer.
Then the screen displayed a name.
ACCESS GRANTED:
ELEANOR VANCE.
Victoria nearly dropped the phone.
Julian read it over her shoulder.
All color vanished from his face.
“That’s Mom.”
Victoria stared at the words.
Her mother had been dead for four years.
She had identified the body herself.
She had stood beside the coffin.
She had watched it lowered into the earth.
And yet, somewhere beneath Manhattan, the most secure vault in the Vance empire had just opened using Eleanor Vance’s biometric signature.
At that exact moment, a video call appeared.
No number.
No identification.
Victoria’s thumb hovered above the screen.
Julian whispered, “Don’t answer.”
Victoria answered.
For three seconds, the screen remained black.
Then a face appeared.
Chloe.
She was sitting in the back of a moving vehicle.
Her wedding dress was torn.
Her hair was loose.
But she was smiling.
Not frightened.
Not defeated.
Smiling.
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“Where are you?”
Chloe ignored the question.
“You always were smarter than Julian.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You used me.”
Chloe laughed.
“Oh, Julian.
Everybody uses you.”
His expression crumpled.
Victoria kept her attention fixed on Chloe.
“Who opened the vault?”
Chloe’s smile slowly vanished.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“This was never about stealing your money.”
“Then what?”
Chloe leaned toward the camera.
Behind her, through the SUV window, Victoria saw another figure sitting in the shadows.
A woman.
Only part of her face was visible.
Silver hair.
A pale hand.
And on one finger—
A sapphire ring.
Victoria stopped breathing.
She knew that ring.
She had seen it every morning of her childhood.
Her mother had worn it for thirty years.
Julian saw it too.
“No,” he whispered.
The shadowed woman slowly turned toward the camera.
The connection began to distort.
Static filled the screen.
Victoria moved closer.
“Who are you?”
The woman smiled.
Victoria’s entire body went cold.
Then came a voice she had not heard in four years.
Soft.
Elegant.
Unmistakable.
“Hello, darling.”
The screen went black.
Victoria stood motionless.
Around her, hundreds of guests stared.
Julian looked as if the floor had disappeared beneath his feet.
“No,” he whispered again.
Victoria called the number back.
Nothing.
She tried again.
Dead.
Then her phone vibrated one final time.
A text message appeared.
COME TO THE VAULT ALONE.
Beneath it was a photograph.
Victoria opened it.
Her face changed instantly.
Julian tried to look.
She turned the phone away.
“What is it?”
Victoria said nothing.
“Victoria.”
Still nothing.
Julian grabbed her shoulder.
“What did they send you?”
Slowly, Victoria looked at him.
For the first time that night, Julian saw fear in his sister’s eyes.
Real fear.
Because the photograph had not shown their mother.
It showed Julian.
Sleeping in his hotel suite earlier that afternoon.
And beside his bed stood a man Victoria recognized immediately.
A man who had supposedly died eleven years ago.
Richard Sterling.
On the back wall, written in black marker, were six words.
JULIAN WAS NEVER YOUR BROTHER.
Victoria stared at Julian.
And suddenly every secret their mother had buried seemed to be waking at once.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
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Source: Stories of Destiny · Thao Thao
