Chapter 3 - The Wrath of a Billionaire
The silence that followed was absolute.
Trevor opened his mouth, trying to find the smooth, corporate charm he used to impress his bosses at the financial firm. "Sir—Jonathan—let me explain. It was a misunderstanding. Rebecca is emotional, she's pregnant, she tripped—"
Jonathan didn't yell. Billionaires of his stature didn't need to raise their voices to terrify people. He simply stepped past his daughter into the apartment, his polished leather shoes clicking against the hardwood floor.
He didn't look at Trevor. He looked at Emma, who buried her face in Rebecca’s neck, and then he looked at Rebecca’s bleeding mouth.
Then, and only then, did Jonathan turn his gaze to Trevor. It was the look a surgeon gives a rotting limb before amputation.
"Marcus," Jonathan spoke into the lapel of his coat.
A heavy-set man in a dark suit stepped out of the shadows of the hallway—Marcus, Jonathan’s head of security and longtime fixer. He had been waiting by the private town car idling at the curb.
"Sir?" Marcus said.
"Pack everything belonging to my daughter and my granddaughter," Jonathan ordered, his tone devoid of any human warmth. "Every toy, every document, every scrap of clothing. If he touches a single item, break his wrist."
"Understood, Mr. Sterling." Marcus moved toward the bedroom with the terrifying efficiency of a military operative.
Trevor lunged forward, panic overriding his cowardice. "You can't do this! This is my house! You're trespassing! I'll call the police!"
Jonathan raised a single finger.
Marcus didn't even need to touch Trevor; two more security guards in plainclothes appeared from the stairwell like ghosts, blocking Trevor's path with immovable bulk.
"Call the police," Jonathan said coldly, stepping close enough to Trevor that the younger man instinctively shrank back. "Please, Trevor. Do it. Tell them a billionaire's security detail is clearing out the home of a man who just assaulted a pregnant woman. Let’s see how quickly the district attorney picks up your case. Let’s see how long your firm keeps you on payroll when the embezzlement investigation I started this morning goes public."
Trevor’s knees buckled slightly. "Embezzlement? I didn't—"
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"You've been skimming from the company accounts for six months to fund your gambling debts," Jonathan said smoothly, pulling a silk handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his fingers as if he had touched something vile. "I've owned the controlling stake in your brokerage firm since last Tuesday. I bought it specifically so I could watch you squirm before I ruined you."
Rebecca stood in the doorway, staring at her father in shock. For four years, she had thought he abandoned her, that he didn't care. She never imagined he had been watching from the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she needed him to shatter her cage.
