Chapter 253

ELLA

Marcus's hand moved to his jacket. The men didn't advance, but they didn't back away either.

A woman stepped through the circle. Gold mask. Champagne gown that shimmered under the parking garage lights.

She pulled off her mask with a sharp gesture. Her face was twisted with fury.

"You." She pointed at me. "I knew it was you."

I didn't remove my mask. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Ella Sterling." Her lips curled around my name like an insult. "Still hiding behind masks, I see."

So she knew who I was. And she was still angry about the boutique incident.

"I wanted the ginseng," I said evenly. "That's how auctions work."

"That ginseng was for my grandfather's birthday." Her voice climbed higher. "He's turning eighty-five. It's important to him."

"Then you should have bid higher."

"I'll pay you 10.2 million. A hundred grand over what you paid." She crossed her arms. "Just give it to me."

I shook my head. "Not for sale."

"Eleven point five million."

"Still no."

Amelia's hands balled into fists. "You already humiliated me at that boutique. Isn't that enough?"

"I gave you the dress."

"As charity!" Her voice cracked. "You handed it to me like I was some beggar. In front of everyone."

"You wanted the dress. I gave it to you. I don't see the problem."

"The problem is you made me look pathetic!" She stepped closer. "You owned the entire mall and didn't say anything. You let me make a fool of myself."

"You made yourself look foolish," I said quietly. "I just happened to be there."

"God, you're insufferable." Her voice turned vicious. "You think you're so much better than everyone else. Walking around with your mask, spending your husband's money."

Heat flared in my chest. "And you think you're entitled to everything because of your family name."

"My family built this city!"

"Your family is drowning in debt." I kept my voice level. "Three failed investments this quarter. Your grandfather's health declining. Harrison scrambling to keep the company afloat."

Amelia's face went rigid. "How do you—"

"I do my research. Unlike some people who rely on family reputation alone."

"You bitch." Her voice dropped low. "You got Mary sent to prison. Destroyed her life. And now you're coming after my family too?"

"Mary committed fraud. The courts proved it."

"She made one mistake!"

"She made multiple mistakes," I said. "And she got caught."

"This is Chicago." Amelia's expression turned cold. "Not Boston. Not wherever the Sterling family thinks they run the show. You're on my turf now."

She gestured to her guards. "You can't come into someone else's backyard and throw your weight around. My family has connections here that even Jack Sterling can't touch."

"Your family also has debts," I said. "Debts that are coming due."

"You think you're so smart." Amelia's smile was sharp. "You think marrying Jack Sterling makes you untouchable. But money doesn't buy everything."

"No," I agreed. "It doesn't buy class. Or self-awareness."

"You—"

The elevator doors opened behind the circle of guards.

Jack stepped out.

His footsteps echoed across concrete. Measured. Unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world.

The fluorescent lights caught the sharp line of his jaw. His tie was perfectly knotted. Not a thread out of place.

Amelia's guards turned their heads. One by one. Their shoulders tensed.

Jack's gaze swept the parking garage. Taking in the circle of men. The blocked exit. Me standing in the center.

His expression didn't change. But the air felt heavier somehow.

"Ella." His voice was warm when he looked at me. "Did you get everything you wanted?"

I nodded. "The ginseng. And a bracelet."

"Good."

He turned to Amelia. The warmth drained from his face like water down a sink.

Two of her guards shifted their weight. A third cleared his throat quietly.

Jack's hands stayed loose at his sides. Relaxed. But something about his stillness made people nervous.

"You're Harrison's sister."

Amelia stared at him. Her mouth opened slightly. For a moment she forgot to be angry.

She was too busy taking in Jack's presence, the way he commanded space without raising his voice.

"I—yes." Amelia seemed to shake herself. "I'm Amelia Jones."

"Tell your grandfather to call me." Jack's tone was pleasant. Almost friendly. "He needs to explain why his granddaughter is threatening my wife in a parking garage."

"I wasn't threatening—"

"You called twelve guards to surround her at a boutique last week." Jack's voice stayed conversational. "You had them attack Marcus. You caused a scene that required fifty mall security personnel to resolve."

He paused. Let the words sink in.

"And now you're here. With more guards. Blocking her path. Making demands."

Amelia's face went white. "That was a misunderstanding—"

"If your grandfather doesn't call within twenty-four hours, I'll assume the Moore family has declared war on Sterling Investments."

Jack smiled. The expression never reached his eyes. Cold as January wind off Lake Michigan.

"And I will respond accordingly."

"You can't—"

"I can. Your family's pharmaceutical division depends on three key suppliers. All of whom I have relationships with."

His voice was matter-of-fact. Like discussing the weather. But each word landed with precision.

"Your Chicago real estate holdings are leveraged at 80%. Your brother's venture capital fund is hemorrhaging money."

He tilted his head slightly. "Your grandfather's medical bills alone are costing your family two million a month. Experimental treatments aren't cheap."

Amelia's jaw trembled. "You have no right—"

"I have every right to protect my wife."

Jack's tone didn't change. But something flickered in his gaze. Something that made the lead guard take half a step back.

"And if you ever approach her like this again—at a boutique, at an auction, in a parking garage—your family will regret it."

He held out his hand to me. "Come on. Let's go home."

I took his hand. The guards parted without being told. They created a path to our car.

Marcus opened the back door. I slid in. Jack followed. The door closed with a solid thunk.

Through the window I watched Amelia stand frozen in the parking garage. Her face was pale. Her hands were shaking.

One of her guards leaned close, speaking urgently. She shook her head. Then she pulled out her phone with trembling fingers.

Calling her grandfather, probably. Or Harrison.

Either way, this wasn't over.