Chapter 8 - BETRAYAL AND CONFRONTATION
The name Adrian Cross hung in the cold air like a death sentence.
Marcus stared at Adrian, his jaw slack, his eyes darting from Adrian’s sharp face to the silver scar slicing
through his eyebrow. Slowly, the memories of a decade ago seemed to flood back into his mind.
“Cross?” Marcus whispered, his voice shaking. “Arthur Cross’s kid? You’re... you’re dead. You went
bankrupt and disappeared.”
“I didn't disappear, Marcus,” Adrian said, taking a slow, predatory step forward. “I rebuilt. I became the man
who bought your debts. I became Alden Vale.”
Marcus’s eyes went wide as the realization hit him. The frail, dying billionaire who had married his sister, the
man who held the deeds to their entire lives, was the son of the man he had ruined.
“You...” Marcus gasped, turning his furious gaze to me. “You knew. You teamed up with him! You betrayed
your own blood, Evelyn!”
“My blood sold me for ten million dollars, Marcus,” I said, my voice cold and unwavering. “You didn't treat
me like family. You treated me like a transaction. I simply chose a better partner.”
“You miserable bitch!” Marcus roared.
He lunged at me, his face twisted in a manic rage. But Adrian was faster. He stepped into Marcus’s path,
grabbing his forearm mid-swing and twisting it behind his back with effortless, bone-cracking force. Marcus cried
out, dropping to his knees on the gravel.
“Touch her again, and I’ll ensure your prison sentence is the least of your worries,” Adrian whispered into
Marcus’s ear, his voice dangerously calm. He released Marcus, shoving him contemptuously to the ground.
“This isn't over!” Marcus screamed, pushing himself up from the dirt, his expensive suit ruined. “The
contracts are signed! The ten million is ours! You can't just take the company!”
“Read the collateral clause, Marcus,” I said, stepping forward. “The moment your business license is
suspended or your valuation drops below fifteen percent, the default triggers automatically. As of ten minutes ago,
Mr. Vale’s trust owns Cross-Tech Construction, your family mansion, and every bank account associated with them.
You have nothing left.”
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Marcus looked at me, the reality of his complete ruin finally sinking in. He looked like a man who had
jumped from a cliff and realized too late that there was no net. Without another word, he turned and fled, stumbling
toward his luxury car.
Adrian turned to me, his intense blue eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I said, my heart pounding, but not from fear. “It’s over, Adrian. We did it.”
“Not yet,” Adrian said quietly. “Your father is still at the mansion. He’s been trying to access the frozen
accounts. Thomas called—he’s there now, and he’s desperate. We need to go.”
We drove back to the estate in silence. The storm had finally broken, leaving behind a cold, gray light. When
we arrived, the front doors of the mansion were wide open.
Inside, the foyer was a scene of chaos. My father stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, his face pale and
sweating, holding a leather duffel bag stuffed with gold coins and documents he had retrieved from the safe. My
mother was sitting on the stairs, weeping loudly into her hands.
When my father saw me walk in with Adrian, his eyes lit up with a desperate, frantic hope.
“Evelyn! Thank God!” he cried, rushing toward me. “The bank accounts are frozen! Some glitch in the Vale
system. Speak to your husband! Tell him we need a temporary release of funds. We need to leave the country—the
safety board is investigating us!”
He stopped as his eyes fell on Adrian, who stood tall and imposing beside me, with no silicone mask, no gray
hair, and no cane.
“Who is this?” my father asked, his voice faltering. “Where is Mr. Vale?”
“Mr. Vale is dead, Father,” I said, my voice echoing through the grand marble foyer. “He never existed. This
is Adrian Cross.”
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