Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Queen
"Take her away," Julian said flatly, turning his back on Victoria as if she were already a ghost.
"Julian! No! You can't do this to me! Think of our reputation! Think of the press!" Victoria shrieked, thrashing wildly as the two massive security guards hauled her off the ottoman and dragged her toward the private elevator. "Julian! You'll ruin yourself! People will talk! JULIAN!"
Her desperate cries echoed down the corridor until the heavy steel elevator doors slid shut, cutting off her voice entirely.
The walk-in closet fell into a heavy, exhausted silence. Julian stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the empty floor where Victoria had just been sitting. The billionaire let out a long, shuddering breath—the first real breath he felt he had taken in months. He turned to face Clara, who stood quietly by the doorway, holding a pristine handkerchief.
"Mr. Vance," Clara said softly, her stern exterior melting into genuine compassion. "Leo is sleeping peacefully in the nursery now. The doctor is running a final blood panel, but he confirmed the toxin was flushed out completely in time."
Julian nodded slowly, running a hand over his face. He looked exhausted, decades older than he had twenty minutes ago, but his eyes were clear.
"Clara," Julian murmured, stepping forward and extending his hand. The billionaire, a man who rarely bowed to anyone, gripped the elderly nanny's hand with both of ours. "You saved my son's life. Words cannot express..."
"Save your words for your son, sir," Clara interrupted gently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "A nanny’s job is to watch the children. But sometimes, you have to watch the wolves dressed as sheep, too."
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Julian gave a faint, weary smile. "She’s going away for the rest of her natural life. My legal team will ensure she never sees daylight again, let alone a cent of my fortune."
"Good," Clara said firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go warm up a fresh bottle of formula. And this time, I’ll be tasting it first."
