Chapter 3 - The Cold Exile
The small boy lifted his head from Martha's apron. When his tear-filled brown eyes locked onto Julian's face, a breathless, broken sob escaped his lips. Leo reached out with his tiny hands, grasping at the collar of Julian’s navy jacket.
Julian pulled the boy into his arms, lifting him completely off the marble floor and holding him tightly against his chest. He stood up in one fluid movement, wrapping one hand around the back of Leo's head to press the child's cheek against his collarbone, dabbing the boy's wet face with his jacket lapel while his other arm supported the child's body.
"Shh... I've got you. You're safe now," Julian whispered against the boy's hair, feeling the violent tremors racking Leo's frail frame. He patted Martha gently on the shoulder with a reassuring nod. "Go inside, Martha. Tend to your back. The doctor will be here shortly."
Martha nodded weakly, wiping her eyes as she stood up slowly and retreated into the service quarters.
Julian turned around slowly.
Victoria was standing three feet away. Her shocked expression had morphed into a defensive mask, though her fingers still clutched the handle of the riding crop so tightly that her long nails dug into her own palm. She raised her hand, bringing a slender, manicured hand up to cover her mouth in fake dismay, her dark brown eyes widening as she attempted to reconstruct her composure.
"Julian... darling," Victoria began, her voice pitching up into an artificial, breathless tone. "You don't understand... he was being unruly. He destroyed the 18th-century porcelain vase your mother left behind! I was only trying to discipline him, to teach him—"
"Silence," Julian said.
The word was not yelled. It was spoken quietly, with an icy, absolute finality that froze the blood in Victoria’s veins.
Julian looked down at her. His grey eyes were devoid of any affection, any warmth, or any of the gentle familiarity they had shared over the past two years of their engagement. He looked at her as if she were a total stranger who had broken into his home to commit an unpardonable sin.
"You lay a hand on my son," Julian said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying whisper that echoed across the vast, empty foyer, "and you dare speak the name of my mother?"
"He is a child who needs structure!" Victoria snapped back, her desperation turning back into defensive venom as she dropped her hand from her mouth. "You spoil him! You treat him like the heir to Sterling Enterprises when he is nothing more than the product of your foolish mistake with a low-class nurse!"
Julian's gaze narrowed into two cold, steel points. He raised his free hand and pointed a single finger toward the open double doors, where the cold wind continued to sweep in from the dark driveway.
"You must leave this house tonight," Julian commanded flatly.
May you like
Victoria gasped, her face draining of all color. "What?! Julian, you can't be serious! We are getting married next month! The invitations have been sent! The Vance family and the Sterling family—"
"The engagement is over," Julian interrupted, his voice completely unyielding. "Your things will be packed and sent to your father's townhouse by morning. If you are still on this property in ten minutes, my security detail will drag you off the grounds personally."
