Chapter 3 No.3

Evelina POV:

The heavy door creaked open, just a crack, letting in a sliver of light before swinging wide. Brennan stood there, his face a mask of furious concern, flanked by two of my personal security detail, men much larger and more formidable than Kesha's rented muscle. Their eyes, sharp and alert, swept over the dim room, taking in my crumpled form on the floor.

"Evelina!" Brennan's voice was a tight gasp, his eyes widening as he saw the bruises already blooming on my face and arms, the blood trickling from my lip. He started towards me, his hand reaching out.

I shook my head subtly, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but he saw it. His face hardened, understanding dawning in his eyes. He stopped dead, his gaze flicking from me to Kesha, then to her two guards who now looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Here," Brennan said, his voice clipped, extending a sleek, silver payment terminal. His eyes never left mine, a silent question and a promise of retribution passing between us.

I took the device, my fingers throbbing as they closed around it. With a supreme effort, I pushed myself up, my body protesting every movement. I swayed slightly, but forced myself to stand, ignoring the pain. I then handed the terminal to Kesha, my eyes fixed on hers. My gaze was cold, devoid of the fear she expected.

Kesha snatched the device, a triumphant smirk still plastered on her face. "Smart girl," she purred, her finger swiping across the screen. The transaction went through instantly. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, you understand your place. Don't ever show your face here again, or anywhere near Edward. Consider this a warning." She tossed the terminal back to Brennan with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "And now, get out. All of you."

I turned, my legs feeling like lead, each step an monumental effort. Brennan was immediately by my side, his arm slipping around my waist, providing much-needed support. I leaned heavily on him, my vision still swimming, but my resolve as solid as bedrock.

"Thank you, Brennan," I murmured, my voice barely audible. The words were for the immediate rescue, but beneath them, a deeper gratitude pulsed. He was always there.

"Don't thank me, Ev," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Just tell me who did this to you. And we'll repay them tenfold." His arm tightened protectively around me. "What happened? And where's Edward?"

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, ending in a wince. "Edward happened, Brennan. Or rather, Edward's poor taste in women. He abandoned me. Threw me to his hyenas. Let his fiancée beat me and accuse me of being a grifter." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the burning inferno in my chest. "He let her believe all of my wealth was his. And he chose her over me."

"He sided with her?" Brennan's voice was incredulous, laced with a fury that mirrored my own.

"He did more than that," I said, my eyes hardening. "He set me up. He painted me as an obsessed ex, a stalker trying to extort money from him." The words tasted like ash. "This isn't just about money anymore, Brennan. This is about loyalty. About family. And he just proved he has none."

I pulled out my phone again, my fingers moving with renewed purpose despite the lingering tremor. My contacts list flashed on the screen. My gaze locked on a name at the very top: "Legal - King Ventures."

"I need to make a call," I said, my voice cold and steady. "And I need you to make sure Edward and Kesha don't leave this building. Not yet." Brennan nodded, his jaw tight, already signaling to his security team.

I found the number for Marcus Thorne, my head of legal affairs, a man renowned for his ruthlessness and efficiency. He was fiercely loyal, a man who understood power and how to wield it. I had trusted him implicitly for years, building King Ventures into a multi-billion dollar empire. He would understand. He had to.

I dialed. The line rang twice before his crisp, professional voice answered. "Thorne here."

"Marcus," I said, my voice firm despite the tremor in my body. "It's Evelina King. I need you to initiate a full legal investigation into Kesha Poole immediately. Assault, battery, defamation, extortion. I have physical evidence and witnesses. Coordinate with Brennan for details. I also need you to prepare documents to completely sever all financial ties between King Ventures and Edward King. Every single one. Effective immediately."

A pause on the other end. Marcus, ever the professional, didn't question. He knew my voice, knew the gravity of such a command. But I heard a subtle shift in his tone, a faint concern. "Evelina? Is everything alright? Your voice sounds... strained."

"Just execute the orders, Marcus," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. "And send a team to this location immediately. I want Kesha Poole arrested before she can leave." I recited the gallery's address. "This isn't a request. This is an instruction."

"Understood, Ms. King. It will be done." His voice was now pure steel, reflecting my own resolve.

I hung up, my hand trembling slightly, but a strange sense of calm settled over me. This was it. The line had been drawn.

"Brennan," I said, turning to him. "Get me to the nearest police station. I need to file a full report and get a medical examination." My injuries weren't just pain; they were evidence.

He nodded, already moving, his security detail falling into formation around us. As we walked out of the back corridor, my mind was ablaze. The anger, the humiliation, the sheer audacity of Edward's betrayal-it all coalesced into a cold, hard resolve. I had spent years building Edward's gilded cage, showering him with wealth and status, believing I was fulfilling some twisted familial duty. He had taken it all for granted, and then, with Kesha's complicity, he had tried to destroy me.

I looked down at my bruised arm, then at the blood on my dress. The pain was real, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. My father. He had done this. He had allowed this.

"He's going to explain this to me," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper, yet infused with a chilling certainty. "He's going to explain every single detail, face to face."

Brennan guided me out of the gallery, past the lingering patrons who now looked at me with a mixture of shock and dawning recognition. My face was plastered with public humiliation, yes, but it was also etched with a promise. A promise of swift, merciless retribution.

As we drove away, I pulled out my phone again. "Find out where Edward King is right now," I instructed Brennan. "I need his exact location. Immediately."

My mind flashed back to the penthouse I had bought for Edward, the unlimited credit cards, the country club memberships, the luxury cars, the 'savvy investments' he boasted about, all quietly funded by me. The life he believed he had earned. The life he had just leveraged against his own daughter.

I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. The sounds of the city faded into a dull roar. All I could hear was Kesha's cackling laughter and Edward's sickening silence. I pictured the opulent penthouse, the lavish party he was likely still enjoying, oblivious to the storm I was about to unleash.

A text came through from Brennan: "Edward King's penthouse. Current location confirmed. Having a small gathering."

My eyes snapped open. A small gathering. While his daughter was being beaten in the backroom of a gallery she owned, by his fiancée, for money she was giving them. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Take me there," I commanded, my voice flat and cold. "Now."

My phone buzzed again. This time it was an incoming call from Marcus. I answered, putting it on speaker.

"Ms. King," Marcus's voice was grim. "My team just arrived at the gallery. Kesha Poole is being detained. Edward King is also present there, apparently having just arrived from the penthouse upon hearing the commotion. He's... attempting to interfere with the arrest."

A slow, chilling smile spread across my bruised lips. Perfect.

"Good," I said, my voice like ice. "Tell him I'm on my way. And tell him to wait."

I heard the muffled sounds of a woman crying, then Edward's panicked, angry voice in the background. Kesha. He was defending her. He was choosing her. Again.

My journey to the penthouse was swift, a silent vigil of simmering rage. I would not enter the penthouse. Not yet. I had a different plan. I stopped the car a block away. I had to hear it with my own ears. I had to know for sure.

As we approached the building, I could already hear a faint murmur of voices filtering down from the upper floors. Edward's penthouse party was still in full swing. Laughter, music, the clinking of glasses. The vibrant sounds of a carefree life I had unwittingly financed, a life that now felt like a cruel mockery.

I got out of the car, my body aching, but my resolve growing stronger with every step. My security team, led by Brennan, formed a protective perimeter around me. We moved silently, entering the building through a discreet service entrance. Up the elevator, to the floor below Edward's penthouse. I could hear them more clearly now, the sounds of celebration, oblivious and uncaring.

My heart hammered, a mix of pain and fury. I had given him everything. And he had repaid me with this.

I paused at his door, my hand hovering, not to knock, but to listen. The faint sounds of music and conversation bled through the thick wood. Then, I heard a woman's theatrical sobbing. Kesha. And then Edward's voice, soothing, gentle, apologetic.

"Oh, Edward, darling! It was awful! This crazy woman, she just attacked me! She tried to extort money from us, right here in our gallery!" Kesha's voice was high-pitched, laced with false distress. "She even tried to claim your company, King Ventures! Can you believe the nerve?"

"There, there, my love," Edward's voice, smooth and reassuring, echoed through the door. "It's all over now. That ghastly woman is gone. Don't you worry about her. She won't bother us again."

"But she called the police, Edward!" Kesha wailed. "She made up all these terrible lies! What if they believe her? What if our reputation is ruined?"

"Nonsense, sweetheart," Edward scoffed, his voice confident. "My reputation is impeccable. And yours too, now that you're with me. No one will believe a common grifter over us. I'll make sure of it." He paused, then his voice hardened. "And as for that... unhinged woman, if she tries anything else, I'll make sure she regrets it. Nobody threatens my family, Kesha. Nobody."

A wave of nausea washed over me. He had called me unhinged. He had chosen her. He had outright lied, defended her, and threatened me. My own father. The man I had bankrolled for years. The man I had loved.

Kesha's voice, now less tearful and more manipulative, came next. "She was utterly deranged, Edward. She said... she said she was your daughter! Can you imagine? As if you'd ever acknowledge someone like that. Clearly trying to latch onto your wealth."

"Absurd," Edward chuckled, the sound devoid of any warmth. "I have no idea who that woman is. A common party crasher, nothing more. Trying to spin a pathetic story to get a handout. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, my dear. We'll simply handle it. I have friends in high places." His words were like daggers, twisted and plunged into my heart.

My hands clenched at my sides, my knuckles white. The last vestiges of affection, of familial duty, shattered into a million pieces. He had denied me. He had dismissed me. He had threatened me.

"Edward King," I said, my voice cutting through the door, flat and chillingly calm. I pushed open the door, my bruised face a mask of cold fury. Every eye in the lavish penthouse turned, frozen in shock at my sudden appearance. "You want to talk about threats? Let's talk about threats."