How will Julian react when Valerie reveals the rest?

Silence blanketed the magnificent dining room immediately after Valerie’s call. The gilded porcelain plate Julian had just hurled lay shattered on the marble floor, its jagged shards still glinting, but the air in the room had grown thick and suffocating.

Julian stood at the head of the table, his chest heaving with unquelled rage. But as he took in his wife’s chillingly calm demeanor, a flicker of confusion crossed his eyes. A second later, the arrogant ego of a Sterling extinguished it. He let out a scoff, a mocking laugh that echoed off the four walls adorned with priceless oil paintings.

“What kind of charade is this, Valerie?” Julian sneered, stepping forward, his eyes brimming with contempt. “Freezing the Sterling family accounts? You’re playing your part a little too well. Don’t forget you walked into this house with nothing, and without the Sterling name protecting you, you’ll always be just a nobody clinging to high society’s coattails. Sign the divorce papers, pack your things, and get out of here immediately!”

Eleanor, Julian’s mother, took a sip of red wine, the corners of her mouth curling into a sarcastic smirk. “Let her finish her little tragedy, Julian. Low-class people always love creating an illusion of power before they’re kicked to the curb. Look at her, she looks exactly like a madwoman.”

Chloe, his youngest sister dressed in a newly purchased Haute Couture evening gown, lazily chimed in. “Julian, call security to drag her out. She’s dirtying the dining room rug. What an eyesore.”

Valerie did not reply immediately. She slowly slipped her phone back into her platinum handbag—an accessory that looked deceptively simple but was an ultra-limited edition no amount of money could buy—and leisurely adjusted her silk cuffs. Her amber eyes swept over each face in the Sterling family—the people who had spent the last five years draining her tolerance, trampling on her dignity, and believing she was just a lucky parasite they had taken in.

“You’re right,” Valerie said softly, her tone smooth but sharp as a velvet-wrapped blade. “My patience for this circus has finally come to an end.“

Just then, Julian’s phone vibrated violently. He frowned, pulling it out with irritation. The screen lit up with an urgent message from the CFO of Sterling Group. At the same time, Chloe’s diamond-studded phone emitted a piercing beep—a bank notification that her platinum credit card had been declined for an auto-payment on her new yacht.

“What the hell is this?” Chloe shrieked, frantically swiping her screen. “My card is blocked! Are these stupid banks having a system error?”

Eleanor was also startled as her personal assistant rushed into the dining room from the parlor, face pale, trembling hands holding out a tablet. “Madam… the trust funds, personal accounts, and even the estate’s joint accounts… they’re all showing a zero balance or have been frozen by the order of an entity named V.Corp.”

The blood drained entirely from Julian’s face as he read the message from his CFO: “Boss, all capital from our anonymous investor has been completely withdrawn. The bank loans have been simultaneously called in. We don’t have a single penny left. They said… the true owner of the company has reclaimed control.”

Julian snapped his head up, his bewildered eyes locking onto Valerie. He stammered, his voice stripped of all the authority it held minutes prior. “You… V.Corp… What the hell did you do? You’re just a lowly freelance designer!”

Valerie stepped over the shattered pieces on the floor, approaching Julian. She stood just an arm’s length away, but the disparity in their auras made her look like a queen looking down on a jester.

“A lowly freelance designer?” Valerie chuckled softly, a smile illuminating her unadorned yet regal face. “Julian, did you really think your Sterling family was that grand? Three years ago, your family’s company went bankrupt. Before your father passed away, he left behind insurmountable debts and a flashy facade that was on the verge of collapsing. Who do you think paid off that three-hundred-million-dollar debt? Who funded those empty shell projects you arrogantly paraded around high society? Who paid for the dress on your sister’s back and your mother’s diamond collection?”

Julian took a step back, bumping into the edge of the table. “No… impossible. That was from the European venture capital fund… V.Corp…”

“V.Corp,” Valerie interrupted, every word cold and decisive. “V stands for Valerie. I am V.Corp. That so-called ‘Sterling family wealth’ you’ve always been so proud of is, in reality, just spare change in my wallet.“