Chapter 6 - The Unmasking
"The caterers are fine, Victoria," Julian said. His voice, amplified slightly by the lapel mic he had quietly left on, echoed cleanly through the ballroom’s acoustic speakers.
Victoria blinked, her forced smile trembling at the edges. "What... what do you mean? Why is everyone staring at us? And why are the security guards standing by the doors?"
"Because," Julian said smoothly, his tone conversational yet carrying the weight of a falling anvil, "we need to clear up a few logistical misunderstandings before we proceed with any vows."
A nervous ripple went through the crowd. In the front row, a prominent real estate developer shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Victoria’s eyes darted frantically around the room, sensing the sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere. She lowered her voice, hissing through her teeth. "Julian, stop this right now. This isn't funny. Everyone is watching us. If you have something to say, say it in private after the ceremony."
"In private?" Julian raised an eyebrow, a cold smile touching his lips. "That’s funny, Victoria. You didn't seem to care much about privacy about forty-five minutes ago when you were discussing my estate, my company, and my son in your dressing room."
The color drained entirely from Victoria's face. Her porcelain skin turned the shade of chalk, and her breath hitched violently in her throat.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, her voice pitching up an octave. "You're... you're hallucinating. Nerves! It's just wedding nerves, everyone, he's just stressed—"
"Quiet, Victoria," Julian commanded. The sheer authority in his voice cut through her excuses like a chainsaw.
He turned slightly and motioned to Teresa, who stepped forward holding baby Leo. Julian reached out, gently taking his son into his arms, resting the baby securely against his shoulder. The contrast was striking—the billionaire developer holding his infant son while facing down a woman who had planned to discard them both.
"Let me refresh your memory," Julian said, his voice ringing clearly across the silent ballroom. "You were on your phone. Speaking very candidly. You mentioned that I am 'useful,' 'stable,' 'generous,' and 'so consumed by guilt that I try to buy your happiness.'"
A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. Whispers erupted like a sudden summer storm.
Victoria staggered backward, her white silk dress rustling sharply against the marble. "That's... that's a lie! Someone is making things up! Who told you this? Who's lying to you?"
"Nobody lied to me, Victoria," Julian said, stepping closer to her, his gaze unyielding. "I heard it with my own ears. Standing right outside your half-open door. Just like I heard you explain that you have no intention of spending the next eighteen years playing mother to my child."
Victoria’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her carefully constructed facade of aristocratic poise was completely crumbling, revealing the frantic, calculating panic underneath.
"Boarding school," Julian continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register. "That was your phrase, wasn't it? Convince Julian that Leo needs a more structured arrangement. Ship him off to boarding school or full-time caregivers so he wouldn't 'suffocatingly' interrupt your lifestyle."
May you like
In the front row, Eleanor Vance let out a sharp, audible gasp of pure maternal outrage, while several female guests placed their hands over their mouths in horror.
Victoria looked around wildly. She realized, with sudden, terrifying clarity, that the game was over. The trap had sprung, and she was the one locked inside.
