I Funded His Empire, He Married Someone Else

Chapter 2

Early the next morning, the study door slammed open.

Victor came storming out, collar askew, phone clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. "Stella, why is my personal account frozen?"

I didn't look up. I kept slicing my fried egg. "Your account. Why are you asking me?"

His voice went rough. "The company accounts are locked too. The funding that came in last night, I can't move a cent of it."

I raised my eyes. "Then you should be asking Finance."

He stared at me. "My assistant says the order came from the Vances' risk management division. Did you say something to them?"

I set the knife down. Metal met porcelain with a clean, sharp sound.

"Victor, why I am the one you first doubt?"

Victor stared at me, and for a single second, the suspicion in his eyes gradually faded. Then, just as quickly, he slipped back into that gentle, easy version of himself. He walked to the table, picked up a boiled egg, peeled it with unhurried patience, and set it in my bowl.

"Stella, I didn't mean it. It's probably just a system glitch on Finance's end," he said, voice pitched soft, the way you'd coax a child who didn't know any better. "I may need to move that money from our joint account for a few days, just to keep things running."

I looked at the egg in my bowl and felt the sting of irony.

That eighty million was money I had quietly funneled to him years ago as seed capital, routed through a Vance name. Later, once Thorne Industries turned a profit, he'd transferred it into our joint account to set my mind at ease. He thought he was giving me security. But from beginning to end, that money had been mine.

I swallowed my last bite of egg and said flatly, "It's gone."

His hand paused mid-peel. "What do you mean?"

"I transferred all of it yesterday. Donated it to the leukemia foundation."

The tenderness on Victor's face nearly slipped. The egg in his fingers cracked apart, yolk smearing between his knuckles. Even so, he made himself smile.

"Stella, since when do you use money to throw a tantrum?"

I said nothing.

He drew in a slow breath, and pain surfaced in his eyes. "Charity is a good thing, but you shouldn't have done it without talking to me. Lily's specialty medication for next month still needs to be covered up front. You gave it all away. Are you trying to push her into the grave?"

By the last words, his tone had gone heavy. "Stella, when did you get so cold-blooded?"

I looked at him. "Victor, your company just went public at a billion valuation. You're telling me eighty million matters?"

His throat worked, and his eyes slid away from mine.

Of course it mattered. The three prettiest sets of numbers in Thorne Industries' prospectus had all been floated by shell companies under the Vances. The regulatory approvals for the healthcare initiative, the overseas orders, the cornerstone investors, every one of them was quietly backed by my family. He thought he was standing on top of the world. But the moment I let go, even the ground under his feet would disappear.

Suddenly he pressed a hand to his stomach, brow tightening, lips going pale.

Once upon a time, when his stomach acted up, I would throw a coat over my nightgown and run three blocks for medicine. I'd stand over a clay pot for three hours simmering broth for him, terrified he'd wake up and have nothing warm to drink.

Now, I just pulled out a tissue and wiped the crumbs off my fingertips.

Victor waited. I didn't get up. His eyes finally darkened. Then he sighed again.

"All right. The money's gone. I won't blame you." He pulled a gilt-edged card from his coat pocket and set it on the table. "There's an important event tonight. A gala at the Vances', the Wealthiest Family in the Capital." He looked at me as though he were bestowing some grand favor. "I meant to take you."

I lifted my eyes.

He paused. "But Lily said she's never seen anything like it. She wants to go. You wouldn't know anyone there anyway, and she isn't well. I want to give her something to smile about. Stella, you've always been the reasonable one. Let her have this one, all right?"

That card was the invitation I'd had the head butler send him the night before.

The Vances only issued invitations like that to the reception staff at the door. It wasn't a ticket into the room. It was a servant's pass that made a man stand outside and learn how to bow his head.

I looked at him and nodded. "Fine. Take her."

Victor visibly exhaled. He came over, pulled me into his arms, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I knew it. My Stella is the good one. Always understands the bigger picture."

I didn't push him away. I only noticed the smell of champagne on him, sharp and dirty in my nose.

"Don't worry. After tonight, I'll make it up to you properly."

I watched the sky brightening outside the window and let out a small laugh. "All right. I'll be waiting."