BOUND TO THREE BILLIONAIRES

SHATTERED GLASS

CHAPTER 6: Shattered Glass

The razor-sharp shards of glass hit the Persian rug with a soft, deadly cascade, glinting under the red emergency lights.

Before my breath could even hitch, Alexander moved with terrifying, predatory speed. He didn't hesitate; he shoved me violently behind his broad frame, raising his sidearm and firing a single, deafening shot through the smoke. The intruder’s mask shattered, the man tumbling backward off the balcony rail and plunging into the dark abyss below with a sickening thud.

"Stay down!" Julian barked, his hands gripping my shoulders as he forced me to crouch beside the heavy mahogany dresser. His dark obsidian eyes burned with a mixture of raw terror and lethal fury. "Lyra, look at me. Do you hear me?"

"I'm—I'm okay," I gasped, my hands trembling as I clutched my stomach, the metallic scent of gunsmoke stinging my nostrils.

Dominic didn't waste a second. He vaulted over the bed, kicking the broken balcony doors shut and throwing the heavy steel deadbolt just as the chatter of automatic weapons fire erupted from the courtyard below. Sterling security forces had engaged my father's mercenaries, turning the pristine estate gardens into a war zone.

"Victor didn't just come to fight," Alexander said, his voice dropping into a cold, dangerous register as he reloaded his weapon with a sharp clack. "He sent a distraction. Chloe is making her move."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. The phone call. The warning that the original DNA records had been stolen from Dr. Reed's lab.

"The front gates were just a smoke screen," I whispered, looking up at Alexander and Julian through the dim, pulsing red glow. "Chloe isn't trying to break in. She’s broadcasting to the world right now."

As if summoned by my words, the secure master suite television flickered to life. The screen bypassed all local channels, flashing a live, breaking news feed emblazoned with a screaming red banner: THE STERLING HEIR: A VANCE SECRET UNCOVERED.

On the screen stood my half-sister Chloe, draped in expensive white wool, standing triumphantly on the steps of city hall surrounded by a sea of flashing camera strobes and reporters.

"Good evening, citizens," Chloe’s voice purred through the high-end speakers of the master suite, dripping with toxic satisfaction. "I am Chloe Vance. And while the media has been fed romantic fairy tales about corporate mergers and secret brides, I am here to present the unvarnished truth. The child currently being harbored inside the Sterling estate is not a corporate heir. DNA records stolen directly from the family's private physician prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the father is not Julian Sterling, nor Alexander Sterling... but a notorious underground gambler currently wanted by federal marshals."

My breath caught in my throat, a sharp, suffocating terror freezing the blood in my veins. Lies. It was all a manufactured lie.

"That lying b***h," Dominic snarled, slamming his fist against the bedroom wall so hard the plaster cracked. His bright blue eyes were blazing with pure venom. "She fabricated the DNA profile. She's trying to destroy our credibility before we can execute the corporate buyout."

I looked up at Julian. His face had gone completely pale, his jaw locked so tight a muscle ticked violently beneath his skin. For a split second, doubt flickered in the dark depths of his obsidian eyes—not because he didn't trust me, but because the media trap was closing in with terrifying precision.

"Julian..." I whispered, my voice breaking as hot tears spilled over my lashes. "You know that's not true. You were there. That night..."

Julian didn't let me finish. He closed the distance between us in a single stride, dropping to one knee in front of me. His large, warm hands cupped my face, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. The raw intensity in his gaze stripped away every ounce of my fear.

"I don't give a damn what that screen says, little bird," Julian murmured, his voice fierce, steady, and vibrating with absolute conviction. "I know who held me in the dark. I know who carries my child. Let the whole world try to tear us apart—I will burn every news outlet in this country to ash before I let them touch you."

Alexander stepped up behind Julian, placing a heavy, grounding hand on Julian's shoulder. His storm-gray eyes locked onto mine with an unyielding, unbreakable promise.

"Chloe thinks she has checkmated us," Alexander said coldly, a dark, dangerous smile touching the corner of his lips. "She doesn't realize that by bringing the world's attention to this estate, she just gave us legal grounds to seize every remaining asset the Vance family owns under federal conspiracy laws."

Dominic pulled out his custom platinum smartphone, his fingers flying across the screen with blinding speed. "My tech team is already tracing the broadcast signal. She isn't at city hall—that's a pre-recorded feed. She's broadcasting live from the private media tower downtown. We can intercept her in twenty minutes."

A fierce, powerful warmth surged through my chest, chasing away the remnants of my terror. They weren't running. They weren't doubting me. They were ready to go to war for our family.

I placed my hand over Julian's on my cheek, feeling the steady, racing rhythm of his pulse. I looked at all three of them—my ruthless CEO, my unyielding fiancé, and my reckless protector—and felt the final pieces of my old, broken life shatter away.

"Let's go," I said, my voice steady and laced with a quiet authority that made all three men stop and stare. "If Chloe wants a war, let's give her a queen."

Alexander’s eyes flashed with dark, fierce approval. He extended his hand, pulling me to my feet. "Get her tactical gear from the armory," he ordered Julian and Dominic. "We're crashing her broadcast."

We rushed down the private service elevator into the estate's underground motor pool. The heavily armored, bulletproof SUV sat idling in the dark bay, its twin turbo engine rumbling like a sleeping beast.

"Put this on," Julian commanded gently, draping a reinforced kevlar jacket over my shoulders and zipping it up to my throat. His fingers lingered at my neck, his lips brushing against my forehead with protective heat. "You stay between Alexander and me the entire time we're in that building."

"Don't worry, sweet heart," Dominic grinned dangerously as he racked the slide of his own weapon, stepping into the driver's seat. "I drive fast when I'm breaking up fake news."

The garage doors rolled open, and the armored vehicle roared out into the dark, storm-swept night, cutting through the breached estate gates and speeding toward the city skyline.

Inside the vehicle, Alexander handed me a tablet displaying the live feed of Chloe's press conference. "She’s three minutes away from releasing the forged medical files to every national syndicate. Once those files enter the public record, it will take weeks of court battles to clear your name."

"Then we don't let her finish the sentence," I said, my amber eyes narrowing as I watched my half-sister's smug face on the screen.

The SUV screeched to a halt in the underground parking garage of the Vance Media Tower. The three men moved in flawless synchronization, sweeping the entrance corridors before pulling me into the private express elevator heading straight for the top floor studio.

When the doors chimed open on the 50th floor, the studio lobby was filled with armed security guards wearing the Vance coat of arms.

"Take Lyra to the control room," Alexander ordered Julian, his dark gray eyes turning into pure ice as he stepped out of the elevator alongside Dominic. "Dominic and I will clear the floor."

Before the guards could even draw their weapons, Alexander and Dominic hit the lobby like a lightning strike. Dominic moved with feral agility, disarming the lead guard with a brutal kick and driving him into the marble wall, while Alexander's sheer strength shattered their defensive line in seconds.

Julian gripped my hand tightly, pulling me around the chaotic crossfire toward the heavy glass doors of Studio A.

Inside, Chloe stood under the blinding studio lights, holding the forged manila folder over a podium as the red camera lights blared. "...and as proof of this illegitimate scandal, I present the original lab reports—"

Julian kicked the heavy studio doors open with a violent thud that echoed like a cannon shot through the broadcast equipment.

Chloe froze, her face draining of all color as she spun toward the entrance.

I stepped into the blinding light beside Julian, holding up the real, state-certified ultrasound document stamped by Dr. Reed and verified by the medical board.

"Keep the cameras rolling, Chloe," I commanded, my voice echoing clear and cold across the national broadcast, making millions of viewers hold their breath. "Because it's time the world saw who the real criminal in the Vance family actually is."

Suddenly, the overhead studio lights flickered violently and died, plunging the entire floor into pitch blackness—and a cold, mechanical voice echoed over the studio intercom: "Target acquired. Initiating emergency lockdown."