Chapter 137 The Last Card
Victoria's POV
Adrian's grip on my arm was unrelenting as he steered me through the lobby of Sterling Fashion HQ.
I could feel every eye on us—employees pretending to work while their gazes tracked our progress toward the exit. Tomorrow's gossip. Victoria Astor, escorted out like common trash.
The morning sun hit my face as we emerged onto the street, harsh and unforgiving. My broken hand throbbed with each heartbeat, a reminder of Catherine's revenge, of how thoroughly I'd lost control.
Adrian guided me to the curb and pulled out his phone. "We're ready. Corner of Fifth and 42nd."
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, hating the tremor in my voice.
He didn't answer, just kept his eyes on the street, waiting.
A silver BMW pulled up. The driver's window rolled down, revealing a man I'd never seen before. Fifty-ish, wire-rimmed glasses, a cardigan that screamed "harmless academic."
But I'd learned to read men, and the way his eyes moved over me—clinical, assessing, with just a hint of something else—told me everything I needed to know.
"Mr. Stone," he said, stepping out. "Dr. Whitmore. Thank you for the call."
"Doctor." Adrian shook his hand, then gestured to me. "Ms. Astor, as discussed."
Dr. Whitmore. A doctor. My stomach dropped as the pieces clicked together. Julian wasn't sending me to jail.
He was sending me somewhere worse—a psychiatric facility where I could be locked away, medicated into compliance, erased from his life without the mess of a trial.
"Ms. Astor. I've heard so much about you," Dr. Whitmore said, his smile warm, grandfatherly.
I bet you have, I thought bitterly. Whatever lies Julian had fed him.
Adrian leaned closer to the doctor. "She's been experiencing episodes of severe emotional instability. Threats of self-harm, delusional thinking. Mr. Sterling wants her evaluated for a seventy-two-hour hold, minimum."
Dr. Whitmore nodded seriously. "Of course. The facility is fully equipped for cases like this. Very private, very discreet."
"Good." Adrian's hand landed on my shoulder, heavy with finality. "She's all yours."
This was it. My last chance.
I let my shoulders slump, playing defeated. "All right."
Dr. Whitmore opened the passenger door. "Shall we?"
As I moved toward the car, I let myself sway slightly, my good hand reaching out to steady myself against his arm. His fingers closed around my elbow, warm through my blouse.
"Careful," he murmured.
I looked up at him through my lashes. "Thank you, Doctor."
His pupils dilated. Just a fraction, but I saw it. He had weaknesses, same as any man. And right now, weakness was all I had left to exploit.
I slid into the passenger seat. Dr. Whitmore got into the driver's seat, and Adrian stepped back.
As we pulled away, I watched Julian's enforcer disappear in the side mirror.
"The facility is about two hours north," Dr. Whitmore said pleasantly. "In Westchester. Very peaceful, very private."
A gilded cage was still a cage.
I shifted in my seat, letting my skirt ride up slightly. "Two hours is a long time."
His gaze flicked down to my exposed thigh before returning to the road. "We'll have you settled soon enough. Mr. Sterling has arranged for a private suite."
Of course he had. Guilt money.
I let my hand drift to my throat, fingers toying with the collar of my blouse. "It's warm in here. Do you mind?"
I undid the top button before he could answer. Then the second.
Dr. Whitmore's throat worked as he swallowed. "Ms. Astor—"
"Victoria," I interrupted softly. "Please."
The car hit a bump and I let myself fall slightly toward him, my good hand landing on his thigh. Through the fabric of his trousers, I felt his muscles tense.
"Sorry," I murmured, but I didn't move my hand. "These roads."
"It's... quite all right."
I let my fingers trace a slow, deliberate circle on his leg. His breath caught. Good. I had him.
"You know, Doctor," I said, my voice dropping to something breathy, intimate, "I'm very grateful. For your kindness. Everyone else has been so cruel."
"Julian thinks I'm sick. But I'm not sick. I'm just... lonely."
I leaned closer, letting him catch a glimpse down my unbuttoned blouse.
"Maybe you could help me," I whispered. "Really help me."
My hand slid higher on his thigh. His breathing had gone shallow.
"Victoria..." His voice was hoarse now.
I undid another button. His eyes darted from the road to my cleavage and back again.
This was it. My chance. If I could seduce him, compromise him, maybe I could—
His hand shot out, gripping my wrist. "What are you doing?"
I blinked up at him, feigning innocence even as my heart raced. "Isn't it obvious?"
---
Julian's POV
I stood at my office window, rolling my left shoulder experimentally. The gunshot wound had healed well—barely a twinge now when I moved.
My phone felt heavy in my hand as I pulled up Elena's number. She deserved to know that the woman who'd orchestrated so much pain was finally facing consequences.
She answered on the second ring. "Julian?"
"Elena. I have news. About the attack." I closed my eyes, hating what I had to say next. "It was Victoria."
Silence on the other end. I could picture her in Josephine's hospital room, processing this.
"Adrian traced the payments," I continued. "Cryptocurrency transfers, shell companies. She tried to hide it, but she wasn't as clever as she thought."
"I see." Elena's voice was calm, measured.
"She's been dealt with," I said. "She won't hurt you again. I promise you that."
"What does 'dealt with' mean?"
"She's being committed. To a private psychiatric facility upstate. She'll be... taken care of."
"You didn't call the police."
"This was cleaner. A trial would've dragged you through hell. This way, she's locked away and you don't have to relive any of it."
"I understand," Elena said softly. "Thank you for telling me."
The relief in her voice made my chest tighten. After everything we'd been through, we'd finally found our rhythm again. Elena had stopped flinching when I entered a room, started reaching for my hand again.
My office phone buzzed insistently. I glanced at the screen: my London office, marked urgent.
"Hold on," I told Elena, putting her on speaker as I grabbed the other line. "What?"
"Mr. Sterling. We have a situation. The Singapore acquisition—there's been an accident at the facility. Three workers injured, one critical. Local authorities are involved and the deal is in jeopardy."
Fuck. The Singapore deal was worth two hundred million.
"I need details," I said sharply.
"Already in your inbox. But sir, you need to be there. The partners are threatening to pull out entirely if we don't show up in person to handle this."
I looked at my phone, at Elena's name still glowing on the screen. We'd just gotten back to a good place.
"How soon can you have the jet ready?"
"Two hours."
I closed my eyes. "Do it."
I switched back to Elena. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes."
"I have to go to Singapore. There's been an accident and if I don't handle this personally, we could lose the entire deal."
"I understand," she said, and I could hear that she meant it. No accusations, no demands that I choose her over work. Just quiet acceptance.
"I'm sorry. I know the timing is terrible, with your mother and everything that's happened—"
"Julian, it's fine. Your work is important."
"You're important," I said, and meant it. "You and Josephine. But this is—"
"An emergency. I know." A pause. "How long will you be gone?"
"A week, maybe more."
"We'll be fine," Elena interrupted. "Really. Mom and I... we'll manage."
Her understanding hit me like a physical blow. After everything I'd put her through, she was still supporting me, still trusting me to do what needed to be done.
"I'll call you every day," I promised. "Morning and night. And when I get back, we're taking that vacation we talked about. Just the two of us. Somewhere warm, somewhere far from all this."
"That sounds perfect."
I wanted to tell her how grateful I was for her patience, for the way she'd let me back into her life after Victoria's poison had nearly destroyed us.
"I have to go," I said reluctantly. "But Elena—"
"Go handle your emergency," she said softly. "I'll take care of Mom."
"I'll call you after the plane."
"Safe flight, Julian."
The line went dead.
I stood there for a moment, already planning how I'd make this up to her. The vacation was just the start. Maybe it was time to start looking at rings.
As I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door, I felt something I hadn't experienced in months: peace. Victoria was locked away. Elena was safe. And for the first time in a long time, I was certain about my future.
It included Elena, and that was all that mattered.