Chapter 15
1007words
"Come in." I stepped aside to let him enter.
He walked into the living room, his gaze sweeping across the photos on the wall—photos of Serafina, of Jax, and of Evelynn. His body froze.
"You...you've been watching us all along?" his voice was hoarse.
"Not just watching." I said calmly, "I've been waiting for the perfect moment."
"Why?" He turned around, anger and confusion burning in his eyes, "What do you want? What did my daughter do wrong?"
"Your daughter?" I sneered, "Damian, are you sure she's your daughter?"
His face instantly turned pale.
I walked to the window, my back to him. "Your wife's relationship with Jax is much deeper than you imagine. And Evelynn... she's just a pawn in this game."
"You're insane!" Damian charged at me, but stopped two steps away. His fists were clenched, his entire body trembling, "If you've hurt her..."
"I don't need to hurt her." I turned around and looked straight into his eyes, "You will hurt each other by yourselves."
Damian stared at me for a long time, then turned and left. The door slammed shut.
---
The police investigation of Jax had been going on for a week, but what truly felt suffocating was that sense of tension, like a storm about to break.
Damian stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Manhattan office, holding a glass of whiskey, his gaze fixed on the distant city skyline. Several newspapers were spread out on the desk, all with headlines about the same topic: the Thorn family scandal.
"Sir, the information you requested." Private investigator Carl Locke placed a sealed envelope on Damian's desk.
Damian turned around and slowly sat back in his chair. He didn't rush to open the file, but quietly looked at Carl, "Did you get everything?"
"Yes, sir. On that night three weeks ago, after Madam left Mr. Ashford's safe house, she took off those shoes in the alley." Carl's voice was calm, as if reporting the weather. "Christian Louboutin limited edition, only five pairs worldwide. She threw them in the trash bin, but..."
"But you retrieved them." Damian opened the file envelope, which contained several high-resolution photographs. In the photos, Serafina looked panicked, dealing with those high heels covered in mud and blood.
Carl nodded, "The shoes are now in the trunk of my car, the bloodstains are still there."
Damian carefully examined each photograph. His wife, the woman who was always elegant and proper in social settings, now looked like a panicked criminal. What he felt wasn't anger, but rather a cold calculation almost like that of a businessman.
"Anything else?"
Karl handed over a small recording device, "This is from Miss Cui Huicheng. She said it could exchange for her safety for the rest of her life."
Damian pressed the play button. The recording played a conversation between Serafina and Jax, obviously taking place in some private room. They were discussing how to dispose of Rio's body, with Serafina's voice filled with excitement and pleasure.
"...Put him in Thorn's warehouse, let Jax take the blame. He's always been a bully anyway, no one will suspect..."
When the recording ended, the office fell into dead silence.
Damian turned off the recorder and put the files back in the bag. His movements were slow and meticulous, as if he were handling an important business contract.
"Karl, do you know what cutting losses means?" he suddenly asked.
"Of course, sir. It's about getting out before an investment fails."
"That's right." Damian stood up and walked to the safe near the desk, "Some investments are mistakes from the very beginning. And when this mistake begins to threaten the entire portfolio..."
He took out a pre-prepared anonymous package from the safe, addressed to the Major Crimes Unit of the city police department.
"You must decisively cut your losses and exit."
Three days later in the dead of night, Serafina sat in the living room of her mansion, nervously pacing back and forth. The news about Jax was still playing on the television, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
Her mother Isabella sat on the sofa, looking equally troubled.
"Are you sure you disposed of those shoes properly?" Isabella asked.
"I threw them away myself, Mom. No one will find them." Serafina's voice trembled slightly, "And the videotape has already been..."
The phone rang. Serafina checked the caller ID—it was Damian.
"Darling?" she answered the phone, trying to make her voice sound normal.
"Serafina, are you at home now?" Damian's voice sounded calm, but with an unfamiliar coldness she had never heard before.
"Yes, I'm with my mother. When are you coming back?"
"I'm not coming back."
This statement stunned Serafina. "What do you mean?"
"My lawyer will contact you tomorrow to discuss divorce matters." Damian paused. "Also, you might receive a summons from the police soon."
Serafina turned pale. "Damian, what are you talking about?"
"I'm saying the game is over." Damian's voice was flat. "Those Christian Louboutin shoes and the tape are already in police possession."
The phone slipped from Serafina's hand, crashing onto the marble floor with a crisp shattering sound.
Isabella looked at her daughter's pale face, "What's wrong?"
Serafina collapsed onto the floor, her eyes filled with disbelief and fear, "It's Damian...it's him..."
Far away in his office, Damian hung up the phone and placed it on the desk. He poured himself another glass of whiskey, walked to the window, and gazed at the twinkling lights across the city.
In business, he never made losing deals. And Seraphina Sterling had been his biggest investment mistake from the very beginning.
He dialed another number.
"Carl, it's me." His voice was cold and calm, "Prepare those documents. Tomorrow at nine in the morning, I want to see you at the law firm. And also..."
He paused, looking at the night outside the window.
"Contact the media. I have a story to tell them. About my wife and her best friend Jax Thorne's...special relationship."
