Chapter 3: The Audit on the Desk
I didn't turn around immediately. I let my fingers rest on the edge of the leather blotter, feeling the cool grain of the desktop before pivoting to face her. Victoria stood in the doorway, still draped in her black evening gown, though she had removed her diamond necklace, leaving her throat bare and stark against the dim light.
"What have you been doing in my private rooms?" I asked, echoing the question back with a quiet intensity that filled the room.
Victoria didn't flinch. She stepped past the threshold, her heels clicking sharply against the floorboards. She glanced down at the open manila folders without a trace of guilt. "Someone has to manage the realities of this estate, Julian. You've been entirely too soft since we brought the girl here. You're treating her like an heir when she's a ward—a temporary obligation."
"These files are confidential," I said, my voice dropping into a dangerous stillness. "You had no business going through my personal legal drafts."
"Your legal drafts?" She let out a dry, humorless laugh, stepping closer until only the width of the desk separated us. "Julian, your name is on the deed, but my social capital keeps this foundation funded. If the board finds out you're restructuring the primary trust to give an outside child equal standing with our prospective holdings, the entire board will pull their endowments."
"This isn't about the board," I said, staring directly into her eyes. "This is about basic decency. You searched my desk to find leverage against a child."
"I searched your desk to protect our future," Victoria countered, her voice rising, losing its polished edge for the first time. "That girl represents chaos. Every time she's in the room, the dynamic shifts. You start looking at her like she's your own blood instead of a charity case we inherited out of polite obligation."
"She is my late partner's daughter," I reminded her, enunciating each word clearly. "Her father built half the foundation you're so proud of."
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"Her father is dead, and the paperwork can be interpreted however an aggressive attorney chooses," Victoria said, her expression hardening into a mask of pure ambition. "Cross me on this, Julian, and I'll make sure the press hears every sordid detail about how you're hoarding assets in a private trust while society watches."
She turned on her heel before I could answer, her black gown sweeping past the doorframe as she left the study. I stood alone in the pool of yellow light, looking down at the open folders, realizing the war lines had finally been drawn in the open.
