Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Limousine
The black Maybach glided through the neon-drenched streets of the metropolis, rain beginning to streak the tinted windows. Inside, the partition was raised, separating them from the driver and the armed escort trailing behind in two unmarked SUVs.
Iris had discarded the torn uniform shirt completely, wearing Nicholas’s jacket like an oversized dress. The scent of him—bergamot, old paper, and cedarwood—grounded her after the chaos of the ballroom.
"How bad is the damage to Sterling's father?" Iris asked, looking out at the reflected streetlights.
"Arthur Sterling was already overleveraged," Nicholas replied, tapping a key on his tablet to pull up real-time markets. "He bet heavily against our clean-energy transition fund, hoping our Seattle plant would fail safety audits. He didn't know I spent the last seventy-two hours acquiring sixty percent of his short positions through an intermediary in Singapore."
Iris looked at him, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. "You set a bear trap for him."
"He stepped into it voluntarily," Nicholas corrected smoothly. "Bianca’s little performance tonight simply accelerated the timeline. By tomorrow morning, the Sterling name won't be worth the ink printed on their business cards."
"Good," Iris said, her voice turning cold. "Bianca has ruined three girls' lives in that hotel over the past year. Delia told me about a twenty-year-old dishwasher who had her wages docked and was fired without cause because Bianca claimed the girl spilled water on her shoes. They treat service staff like subhumans."
"Not in any building that carries the Vance name," Nicholas said firmly. He reached across the leather seat and took her hand, running his thumb over the simple platinum band on her finger. For nine years, they had kept their marriage out of the tabloids. In a world where billionaires paraded their wives like trophies, Nicholas and Iris had built an impenetrable fortress around their private life. Iris was an intellectual powerhouse—a former senior partner in algorithmic risk management who preferred the quiet leverage of data to the flashing bulbs of red carpets.
"The secret is out now, though," Iris murmured, tilting her head against the headrest. "By tomorrow, every newspaper from New York to London will have photos of 'The Waitress Billionaire’s Wife.'"
"Let them," Nicholas said, his eyes darkening with protective fire. "Let the whole world know whose hand you hold. Let every arrogant little socialite in this city think twice before they speak to you again."
Iris chuckled softly, the tension finally leaving her shoulders. "You're enjoying this a little too much, Mr. Vance."
"I only enjoy winning, Mrs. Vance," he replied, leaning in to press his lips against her temple. "And reminding people why they shouldn't mistake kindness for weakness."
May you like
The car turned into the long, guarded driveway of the Vance Estate on the cliffside, the wrought-iron gates swinging open like the jaws of a mythical beast. But as the car approached the main portico, Iris noticed three black town cars already parked in the courtyard.
Their hazard lights were blinking silently in the rain.
