Divorced on Monday, Bought the City on Tuesday: The Infinite

The Queen Bows

Chapter 30

The soft ping of the encrypted text message barely registered over the low hum of the Apex Estate’s server cooling fans.

Arthur looked down at the screen of his phone.

I submit. When do I start?

A slow, predatory smile touched the corners of his mouth. The Queen of Diamonds had folded. Victoria Sterling, the financial architect of the Capital City’s underworld, was offering her throat to a man she had met exactly once. It wasn't born of love. It was born of an intoxicating, terrifying recognition of absolute power.

"Nyx," Arthur called out, tossing the phone onto the steel table next to the hacker. "Verify the sender."

Nyx didn't even touch the device. Her neon-green eyes flared as her bio-digital network interfaced with the cell tower data. She blew a pink bubble, letting it pop loudly. "It's the Ice Queen, boss. She’s currently sitting in the Vanguard Council boardroom. Her pulse is slightly elevated. Adrenaline spike."

Serena stepped closer, staring at the message on the screen. "You can't trust her, Arthur. She’s a Sterling. She spent the last decade building the Vanguard Council's treasury. If you let her inside Vance Corp, she’ll try to dissect us from the inside."

"She can't dissect what she can't comprehend," Arthur replied smoothly, leaning against the edge of the table. He picked up the phone and typed his response.

Trust is purchased, Victoria. Show me you can afford it. Sever Lord Castellano’s personal credit lines. Bring me the deed to the Vanguard Council tower by sunrise.

He hit send.

"She’s going to have to burn her own mentors alive to pull that off," Serena whispered, a shiver running down her arms.

"Exactly," Arthur said, his golden eyes completely devoid of mercy. "If she wants to stand in my shadow, she needs to prove she knows how to hold the knife. Come on. We need to inspect the new headquarters. Valmont Spire awaits."

Thirty miles away, on the rain-slicked pavement of Valmont City’s financial district, Eleanor Vance was discovering what true invisibility felt like.

She stood across the street from the towering, hundred-story glass monolith that was the Valmont Spire. Until yesterday, it had housed the city's most elite law firms and hedge funds. Today, massive construction cranes were mounting a sleek, silver 'V' at the very peak of the building.

Eleanor shivered violently. She wore a cheap, oversized trench coat she had bought from a thrift store. Her designer luggage was sitting in a puddle near her feet.

Julian had kicked her out of his motel room at three in the morning, blaming her entirely for Arthur's wrath. Her own bank accounts were overdrawn. Her credit cards were frozen. Her law firm had terminated her contract via email, terrified of being associated with anyone who had crossed Arthur Vance.

She was a ghost. She was the mud.

I can fix this, Eleanor chanted in her mind, her teeth chattering. He loved me. He worked three jobs for me. You don't just turn off three years of devotion. He’s just angry. I just need to look him in the eye and cry. I know how to make him fold.

She grabbed the handle of her ruined suitcase and marched across the street, pushing through the heavy revolving doors of the Spire.

The lobby was a cathedral of modern wealth. Polished white marble stretched out for acres. A waterfall cascaded down a massive slate wall behind the reception desk. Private security guards in tailored black suits stood at absolute attention near the elevator banks.

"Excuse me," Eleanor said, marching up to the front desk, trying to project the haughty confidence she no longer possessed. "I need to speak with Arthur Vance. Tell him his wife is here."

The receptionist, a sharp-eyed woman in a pristine blouse, didn't flinch. She typed a few keys on her terminal. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Vance does not have a wife on file. Furthermore, he is currently conducting a private inspection of the executive floors. You will have to leave."

"You don't understand!" Eleanor’s voice cracked, pitching upward into an embarrassing shriek. "Call him! Call him right now!"

Before the receptionist could summon security, a soft chime echoed through the lobby. A private, gold-plated elevator descended in the center of the room, its glass doors sliding open with a soft hiss.

Arthur stepped out.