“Sign it, or the wedding is off,” my future mother-in-law said icily, sliding the prenup across the table. My fiancé said nothing. My $18 million fortune would legally become his alone. I lifted my gaze and replied, “Are you absolutely certain?” The moment I phoned my own attorney at the dinner table, her confident smile vanished. They believed I was nothing more than a gold-digging girl in love.
THE WOLF’S COVENANT
The golden twilight of Manhattan filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Fifth Avenue penthouse, casting a false golden hue on Victoria Sterling’s rigid face. The scent of expensive incense couldn’t mask the suffocating atmosphere that enveloped the long marble dining table.
Before me lay a thick stack of documents. On the cover was the cold, bold black inscription: PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT.
1. An Ultimatum at the Dinner Table
“Sign it, or the wedding is canceled,” Victoria said, her voice dry as falling leaves. She pushed a Montblanc pen toward me, her eyes narrowed beneath her perfectly applied mascara. “The Sterling family doesn’t welcome those who enter here with only clothes on their backs and hearts full of ulterior motives.”
I glanced at Julian, my fiancé. He sat there, his usually handsome face now expressionless. He didn’t look at me, but intently twirled the family ring on his ring finger.
“Julian?” I whispered.
“Mother’s right, Elena,” he replied, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “The Sterling family’s assets need to be protected. If you love me, money shouldn’t be an issue.”
They believed I was Elena Vance—an orphan girl raised on scholarships, an art magazine editor with a meager salary, who had been lucky enough to “snag” the heir to the Sterling real estate empire. In Victoria’s eyes, I was a parasitic, money-hungry creature trying to cling to her son’s $18 million fortune.
I chuckled softly, the sound a lonely echo in the silent room.
“Are you absolutely sure, Victoria?” I asked, my fingers tracing the sandpaper. “Once I sign here, all future property rights will be clearly defined. There’s no turning back.”
“Stop the charade, Elena,” she sneered. “You should feel lucky Julian still wants to marry you after knowing you have nothing but a first-class college degree.”
2. The Sunset Call
I didn’t argue. I took the phone out of my bag, placed it on the stone countertop, and pressed speakerphone. A short ring sounded before the other end answered.
“Good afternoon, Miss Vance. Is there an urgent matter?” A deep, warm voice, the demeanor of a top Wall Street lawyer, rang out. It was Marcus Thorne – the man the American financial world called “The Butcher of Contracts.”
“Marcus,” I said, looking directly at Victoria, who raised her eyebrows slightly at the familiar name. “Mrs. Sterling wants me to sign a prenuptial agreement they’ve drafted. It states that I relinquish all access to the Sterling family’s assets, and conversely, Julian’s side will have no rights to… my separate property.”
There was a three-second silence on the other end of the line, followed by a soft chuckle. “They actually asked for that? Do they even know what ‘separate property’ you’re holding?”
“They believe I have nothing, Marcus.”
Mrs. Victoria lost her patience, slamming her hand on the table. “Stop this nonsense! What Marcus Thorne would work for someone like you?”
I smiled, pushing the documents toward the phone. “Marcus, please read Mrs. Victoria the latest audit report from the Vance Global trust fund that I officially took over this morning on my 25th birthday.”
3. The Twist: The Hunter and the Prey
Victoria’s expression shifted from anger to astonishment, then to paleness as Marcus began reading in a cruel, even tone:
“The Vance Global Trust, comprising 40% of the Bio-Tech biotechnology corporation, a chain of boutique hotels in Europe, and artworks from the personal collection of the late billionaire Alexander Vance. Estimated current total value: $1.2 billion.”
The room fell into a black hole of silence. The pen in Julian’s hand clattered to the floor.
“What? Alexander Vance is your father?” Julian stammered, her usually lifeless eyes widening in shock. “He… he didn’t have an heir, did he?”
“He had a daughter sent into anonymity to avoid media scrutiny,” I replied, rising from my chair. “Elena Vance isn’t the money-hungry girl you think she is. I entered this house because I thought Julian loved me, not because of my shaky reputation and $18 million fortune – which is only a fraction of the charity I manage.”
Victoria stammered, her lips trembling beneath her dark red lipstick. “Elena… we… we just wanted to make sure… you know, high society is always complicated…”
She hastily pulled the contract back, intending to tear it up. But I was faster; I placed my hand on the document to stop her.
4. Climax: The Fateful Verdict
“No, Victoria. Don’t tear it. I’ll sign.”
I took the Montblanc pen and signed my name with elegant, decisive strokes.
“I sign to protect myself,” I said, my voice icy cold. “From this moment on, according to the terms you drafted, Julian Sterling will never touch a penny of the Vance family’s money. And there’s something you haven’t heard about yet: Bio-Tech has just completed its…
“The acquisition of Sterling Real Estate’s bad debts is scheduled for this afternoon.”
Julian’s father—who had been silent in the corner—jumped to his feet. “What did you say? You’ve acquired our debts?”
“That’s right,” I turned to look at him. “The eighteen million dollars in assets that Victoria boasts about have actually been mortgaged to your failed projects in New Jersey. Now, I’m not just her son’s former fiancée. I’m Sterling’s biggest creditor.”
I picked up my bag, giving Julian one last look. He looked tiny in this opulent penthouse—an empty shell of illusions of wealth.
“The wedding is canceled,” I repeated Victoria’s words. “The shame in this room isn’t mine. It belongs to those who tried to use money to value sincerity, while they themselves were on the verge of bankruptcy.”
5. The End: True Freedom
I stepped out of the apartment, the clicking of my high heels on the hallway floor like a rhythmic countdown to the collapse of an outdated empire.
Down to the lobby, Marcus was waiting by the black limousine. He opened the door for me, bowing slightly.
“What will we do with the Sterling family’s debts, Miss?”
I looked up at the top-floor window, where the lights still shone desperately.
“Sell the property. I want that penthouse auctioned off for charity next month. My son’s name will be given to the new scholarship fund, and the proceeds from the sale of the Sterling house will be the first contribution.”
The car sped away, leaving behind the ghosts of arrogance. I didn’t need a contract to prove my worth. I was Elena Vance, and I had just begun.
CHAPTER 2: THE HAMMER OF JUSTICE
Six weeks later, Sotheby’s auction hall was packed with Manhattan’s most powerful faces. The air reeked of money, but today, attention wasn’t focused on Monet’s paintings or pink diamonds. The focus was on the sale of the Sterling family’s final asset: their penthouse on Fifth Avenue.
Victoria Sterling sat in the back row, trying to hide her gaunt face behind oversized sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat. Julian sat beside her, a shadow of himself, his once proud suit now baggy on his slumped shoulders.
1. The Uninvited Guest
When the auction began, I walked in.
I didn’t choose the VIP seats. I stood at the back, within Victoria’s line of sight. I wore a minimalist white Celine suit, no jewelry, only a chilling calmness.
“The starting bid for the Fifth Avenue property is $12 million,” the auctioneer announced.
Hands began to rise. 13 million. 14.5 million.
Victoria trembled with each new number called out. She knew that after subtracting the enormous debts I held, her family would be left with nothing but old clothes.
“16 million, first call!”
“20 million,” I said, my clear voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.
The entire room turned. Victoria jumped to her feet, her sunglasses falling to the floor. She looked at me with a mixture of hatred and pleading.
2. The Cruel Exchange
“You… what are you going to do?” Victoria stammered as I approached her seat while the auctioneer completed the proceedings.
“I’m just buying back what belongs to me, Victoria,” I replied, looking directly at her. “She once said I didn’t deserve to enter that house. She was right. I didn’t deserve to be a guest, I deserved to be the host.”
The hammer struck: CLICK.
“Sold! To Miss Elena Vance for $20 million!”
Applause erupted, but to the Sterling mother and son, it was a death knell. Julian approached me, his voice hoarse: “Elena, please… my mother has nowhere else to go. At least give her some time to pack her personal belongings.”
I looked at him, the man I had once intended to give my life to, now just a coward begging for pity from the woman he once despised.
“Marcus sent the eviction notice three days ago, Julian. Your belongings have been packed and sent to a mid-range hotel in Queens. I’ve paid for a week’s room. That’s my last act of kindness.”
3. Climax: The Truth About “18 Million Dollars”
Victoria lunged forward, trying to grab my shirt, but was stopped by security. “You’re a devil! You planned all of this!”
“Plan?” I tilted my head. “The only plan I ever had was to marry the man I loved. But you gave me that prenuptial agreement. You taught me that in this world, without money, your voice is worthless.”
I took out a pre-signed check and tucked it into Julian’s breast pocket.
“Here’s $100,000. Not charity, but money to buy back the family ring you forced me to return that night. I’ll melt it down to make medals for disabled athletes in my foundation. At least then, it will truly have value.”
4. The End: Stepping Out of the Darkness
I turned my back and walked away, not bothering to look back at the collapse behind me. Victoria screamed about injustice, about aristocratic blood, but her cries were quickly drowned out by the murmurs of New York’s elite – those who only worship the victors.
The chilly Manhattan air blew through the door. I took a deep breath.
That penthouse would soon become a legal support center for women and children who had been economically abused. The name Sterling would be removed, replaced by my mother’s name – the woman Alexander Vance loved but could never openly acknowledge because of family prejudice.
I had not only reclaimed the money. I had reclaimed the honor of the women considered “stalkers” in the games of the self-proclaimed aristocracy.
The Sterling party was over. And my party had only just begun.
