She Tore the Waitress's Dress in Front of Everyone—Then the Billionaire Walked In and Said, “That's My Wife.”

Arthur Sterling collapsed back into the leather armchair, burying his face in his trembling hands, weeping openly. The Sterling empire, built over forty years of social prestige and financial predation, was dead.

Victor Vance stood frozen, his eyes darting between Nicholas and Iris like a trapped animal. "You think you've won, don't you? You think this ends with me and Arthur?"

Nicholas didn't blink. "Sign the papers, Victor."

Victor pulled a gold pen from his breast pocket, his fingers shaking so violently that ink splattered across the signature line of the formal resignation letter Iris had already printed on the desk. He shoved the pen back into his pocket, his chest heaving.

"You're making a mistake, Nicholas," Victor hissed, leaning forward. "You think Miles Corrigan was just an incompetent broker? You think Bianca Sterling just happened to target your wife tonight?"

Iris’s eyes sharpened. She stepped forward. "What are you talking about?"

Victor let out a dry, bitter laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping pavement. "Miles Corrigan didn't work for Arthur. He worked for the Oakhaven Syndicate. They knew you were undercover in that hotel, Iris. They orchestrated that entire confrontation tonight to film it, humiliate you, and provoke Nicholas into an emotional overreach that would destabilize the Vance stock before the European markets opened!"

Nicholas’s jaw tightened. "The video."

"Yes, the video!" Victor sneered. "You think Bianca was acting alone? Her phone was streaming that entire scene directly to a private server in London. They wanted Nicholas to expose himself, to act like a tyrant, to destroy a public firm on camera. While you two were playing the righteous avengers in the ballroom, three million shares of Vance Global were shorted across three international exchanges!"

Iris immediately grabbed the tablet, her fingers flying across the keys. Her brow furrowed as cascading waterfalls of red numbers reflected in her dark eyes.

"Nick," she whispered, her voice tightening. "He's telling the truth. The short volume on Vance Global jumped four hundred percent ten minutes after Bianca tore my dress. Someone weaponized the footage within seconds."

Nicholas didn't panic. Instead, an eerie, terrifying calm settled over him. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dark ocean, staring out into the storm.

"Miles Corrigan," Nicholas said quietly. "Where is he right now?"

Victor swallowed hard, suddenly realizing he had given away too much. "I... I don't know. He was supposed to board a private flight to London from the executive airfield at midnight."