Chapter 3 - The Gates of Vance Manor
By noon, a heavy autumn mist hung over the iron gates of Vance Manor—a sprawling, gray-stone estate situated on twenty acres of private woodland.
An executive black SUV pulled up the winding gravel driveway, coming to a stop before the grand entrance. The driver stepped out, opening the rear door for Jessi and Patricia.
Patricia hesitated as she stepped onto the stone driveway, her eyes fixed on the imposing oak doors of the house that had been her prison for thirty years. "Jessi... are you sure we should be here? Arthur's lawyers will be furious."
"Arthur's lawyers are currently busy dealing with the corporate fraud notice I sent to the board of directors this morning," Jessi replied calmly, slinging her leather bag over her shoulder. "Walk with your head up, Patricia. You own half of this ground."
As they stepped into the grand foyer, the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them.
Standing near the marble staircase was Luca. His right hand was wrapped in a thick, white fiberglass cast supported by a black sling across his chest. His handsome face was pale, his dark eyes burning with pure, unadulterated venom. Behind him stood Arthur, dressed in his customary black suit, looking like an enraged titan ready to strike.
"You brought her back here?" Luca hissed, taking a slow step forward, though he instinctively kept his distance from Jessi. "You broke my hand, you psychotic bitch! My lawyers are filing criminal assault charges against you right now!"
Jessi set her leather bag on the foyer table, looking at Luca with cool indifference. "File whatever you like, Luca. But before you do, you might want to ask your doctor if your left hand can survive another lesson in basic manners."
Luca flinched, his jaw tightening so hard his light stubble twitched.
Arthur stepped past his son, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying rumble that had terrified the household for decades. "You think you're clever, Jessi. You think a few legal parlor tricks give you power in my house. You are a nobody. A penniless girl who tricked my son into a marriage."
"I am the woman who owns thirty-five percent of your holding company as of eight o'clock this morning," Jessi countered, stepping toe-to-toe with the patriarch. She pulled a folded legal document from her jacket, holding it up before Arthur's face. "Patricia signed over her marital share of the corporate stock to me three hours ago in the hospital."
Arthur’s face went purple with rage. He lunged forward, reaching out to grab Patricia's arm. "You ungrateful, miserable woman—"
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Before Arthur's fingers could touch Patricia, Jessi stepped into his path, her hand striking Arthur's wrist with a sharp, defensive block that sent him stumbling back two paces.
"Touch her again, Arthur," Jessi whispered softly, her eyes cold as ice, "and I won't just break your fingers. I will dismantle your entire life."
