Chapter 1 - The Altar
Julian stared at the memorial altar in absolute horror.
The heavy designer suitcase slipped from his trembling hand and crashed violently against the hardwood floor.
The sharp sound echoed through the quiet house like a gunshot.
His face, previously flushed with arrogant confidence at the airport, drained into a sickly shade of gray.
Chloe shifted uneasily behind him, pulling the soft white blanket tighter around her fussy baby.
She looked around the modestly decorated living room with profound, undeniable disgust.
The scent of burning incense and fresh white lilies filled the heavy air between us.
"What kind of sick, twisted joke is this?" Julian whispered softly, breaking the tense silence.
I stood perfectly still in my simple black mourning dress.
My heart beat steadily, devoid of the frantic panic I used to feel whenever he was angry.
I looked at the man I had married, feeling nothing but a deep, hollow pity.
"There is no joke, Julian," I said evenly, holding his frightened gaze.
"Your mother passed away exactly one hundred days ago."
Julian fell to his knees, his expensive tailored navy suit wrinkling against the dusty floorboards.
He buried his face in his hands, though I could not tell if his tears were real or purely for show.
Chloe tapped her designer heel impatiently, clearly unaffected by the heavy grief suffocating the room.
"Okay, this is sad and all, but we have a flight to catch to Miami tomorrow," Chloe sneered arrogantly.
"Let's just sign the divorce papers, sell this dump, and get out of here."
Julian looked up, his eyes suddenly sharp and calculating as the mention of money snapped him back to reality.
He wiped his face and stood back up, regaining his previous composure with frightening speed.
"Chloe is absolutely right," he muttered, straightening his expensive silk tie.
"My mother would have wanted me to move on and be financially secure."
"Since I am her only son, the house and all her assets transfer directly to me anyway."
"I will have my legal team expedite the sale of the property by the end of the week."
I let out a soft, humorless laugh that echoed through the somber room.
I reached into the clear document sleeve I had brought from the airport and pulled out a thick stack of legal papers.
"You really think Eleanor left this house to you?" I asked quietly.
Julian frowned, taking a threatening step toward me with his fists clenched.
"I am her legal next of kin, Elena," he spat out viciously.
"You are just the pathetic woman who stayed behind to change her bedpans while I built a real future."
I held up the final page of Eleanor's will, completely ignoring his cruel insult.
The document bore the heavy, undeniable gold seal of her state attorney.
"Actually, before she passed, she made a very specific legal adjustment to her estate," I replied.
"She legally disowned you for abandonment."
Julian's jaw dropped as he scrambled forward to read the text from across the room.
"Everything belongs to me now," I stated firmly.
Julian lunged forward, his face twisting into a terrifying mask of pure rage.
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But as his violent hands reached for my throat, a deep, unfamiliar voice echoed from the top of the dark stairs.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Julian," the mysterious man said as the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking filled the room.
