Chapter 7 - THE TRIBUNAL AT GOLD COAST
The Sterling family estate in Gold Coast was an imposing, gilded mansion built during the Roaring Twenties, featuring marble columns, crystal chandeliers, and grand oil paintings of long-dead aristocrats.
Tonight, however, the grand estate felt like a mausoleum.
By seven o'clock in the evening, the entire grand dining room was illuminated by soft candlelight. But there was no feast on the long mahogany table.
Arthur Sterling sat at the head of the table, his face grey, his hands shaking so violently he couldn't hold his water glass. Beside him sat his daughter, Victoria, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, her flawless makeup ruined by tears of sheer panic.
Across from them sat Robert Moretti, looking like a man awaiting an executioner.
Standing around the perimeter of the room were six of Adrien’s most elite security guards, all dressed in immaculate dark suits, their posture erect, their hands folded neatly in front of them.
The heavy double doors of the dining room swung open.
Adrien Moretti stepped inside.
He looked stunning, impeccably tailored in a dark three-piece navy suit with a silver silk tie. His expression was completely blank—a mask of absolute, unyielding coldness that carried more terror than a drawn weapon ever could.
Beside him walked Grace.
She wore an elegant, emerald-green velvet dress that accentuated her gorgeous, voluptuous curves, holding her head high with quiet dignity. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in glossy waves, and on her left hand, the diamond solitaire caught the candlelight, dazzling everyone in the room.
Behind them, Marcus brought in Emily, who was trembling but standing upright under Grace’s protective presence.
Victoria Sterling gasped softly as she saw Grace walk into her father’s estate on Adrien’s arm, looking like a queen entering her court.
Adrien pulled out the grand armchair at the center of the table for Grace, holding it with absolute reverence as she sat down. He then stood beside her, resting one hand on the back of her chair, his dark eyes sweeping over the three terrified people seated across from them.
"Good evening," Adrien said, his voice smooth, deep, and terrifyingly calm. "I apologize for interrupting your dinner hour, Arthur. But we have a few unresolved family matters to settle."
Arthur Sterling swallowed hard, clearing his throat frantically. "Adrien... please. This is a massive misunderstanding! My shipping lines... the customs seizures... my daughter... we have always been loyal supporters of the Moretti family!"
"Loyalty is a word spoken by many, but understood by very few," Adrien said softly. He gestured toward Emily. "This young woman was paid fifty thousand dollars from a shell company registered to Sterling Maritime to spy on my wife."
Arthur looked as if he had been struck by lightning. He turned his eyes toward Victoria, who buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently.
"And three nights ago," Adrien continued, stepping slowly around the table toward Victoria, "your daughter sat beside my wife at the Langham Gala and informed her that I married her out of pity. She called my wife a charity project. She told her that she did not belong in my world."
Victoria looked up, her voice trembling violently. "Adrien... I... I was just trying to protect you! She’s a nobody! She doesn't have our status, she doesn't know how to navigate our world—"
"Silence," Adrien commanded.
The single word cut through the air like a gunshot. Victoria instantly clamped her mouth shut, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Adrien leaned down, placing both hands flat on the table directly in front of Victoria, bringing his lethal, dark eyes inches from hers.
"Grace Miller is my wife," Adrien said, every syllable dripping with absolute finality. "She possesses more grace, honor, and courage in her small finger than your entire bloodline has demonstrated in a century. When you insulted her, Victoria, you did not just cross a line. You declared war on me."
He straightened up, looking at Arthur Sterling.
"As of six o'clock tonight," Adrien announced smoothly, "Sterling Maritime Logistics has been declared insolvent. Your primary creditors—all of whom operate under Moretti holdings—have called in your loans immediately. Your container ships at Pier 42 have been seized by federal authorities for customs violations. By tomorrow morning, the Sterling name will be erased from Chicago’s financial registry."
Arthur slumped back into his chair, looking like an old, broken man. "You... you ruined my family for a few words?"
"Words have power, Arthur," Grace spoke up quietly from her chair, her voice calm, clear, and unyielding. "They can tear a home apart, or they can build one. You and your daughter chose to use your words as weapons. These are simply the consequences."
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Victoria looked at Grace, her eyes wide with shock and humiliation. For the first time, she realized that the curvy, quiet book restorer she had tried to destroy possessed a strength that far surpassed her own inflated arrogance.
"And now," Adrien said, turning his slow, lethal gaze toward his uncle, Robert Moretti, "we come to the most disappointing part of the evening."
