Chapter 14
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"Elena Vance," the detective across from her said flatly, as if reciting a shopping list, "We found your fingerprints at the scene, on the murder weapon. Multiple witnesses have confirmed that you had a heated argument with the victim, and you had a clear motive."
Each sentence was like a cold chisel, nailing her to the position of murderer.
Elena opened her mouth, but no sound came from her throat. What could she say? That it was a trap? That she was called to "save" Serafina? That the person who actually held the knife was Julian, and she was just a pitiful puppet playing the murderer in his perfect script?
These words seemed so feeble in the interrogation room, like the delirious murmurs of a dying person.
The police showed her document after document, "kindly provided" by Julian's legal team. They included a detailed report of her financial situation, showing she was on the verge of bankruptcy; records of her daughter's application to Pioneer Academy; and a forged "agreement" claiming Serafina had promised to fund her daughter's education.
Motive, weapon, witness testimony - they formed a flawless chain of evidence that bound her tightly.
"No..." she finally squeezed out a sound, her voice hoarse and broken, "it wasn't me."
The detective didn't even look up at her, just continued making notes on the documents, as if her denial was merely an expected, meaningless step in the procedure.
Despair washed over her body inch by inch like ice water. She thought of her daughter, the girl who was still waiting at home for her mother to bring back good news. Now, what she would bring home was a murder charge and a sentence of life imprisonment.
She finally understood that from the moment she entered "Paradise Tower" with the vain attempt to get a piece of the pie in this game of power, her fate was already sealed. Julian Thorne never leaves anyone alive.
Meanwhile, on television news, Julian was performing the most brilliant act of his life.
He stood before countless camera flashes, with Cassandra beside him holding his arm, her face haggard, her eyes filled with just the right amount of sorrow and strength.
"Serafina... she was a woman destroyed by misfortune," Julian's voice came through the screen, with convincing grief, "The decline of her family and the inevitable cracks in our marriage led her to extremes. She tried to destroy me, destroy everyone she considered an 'enemy'."
Behind him stood Kevin Lee, Thorn Capital's chief lawyer. A legendary figure in the legal world known for turning black into white.
Kevin Lee took the microphone and, in a calm and professional tone, explained to the media how "Miss Serafina Vanderbilt" had meticulously planned the "attack" at the banquet, and how at the last moment, due to a dispute over the division of spoils with Elena Vance (described as her hired accomplice), an internal conflict arose that ultimately led to the tragedy.
Serafina's revenge, the chess game Serafina laid out with her life, was reduced to a farce caused by a mentally unstable woman's jealousy in their casual remarks.
And Serafina, Serafina Vanderbilt, became the heinous instigator. Serafina's death was portrayed as her just deserts.
"We will inherit Serafina's will," Cassandra's voice was gentle yet firm, as if she were Serafina's most intimate sister, "We will purify the 'Paradise Tower,' making it once again a pure, safe haven."
How ironic. They used Serafina's death to hold a grand coronation ceremony for their own sins. Public opinion had been completely reversed, with people beginning to sympathize with this "pitiful" pair of victims while condemning the crazed "ex-wife" and the greedy "murderer."
A few days later, Thorn Capital and Sterling Group announced their official merger, with the new Business Empire standing at the pinnacle of Wall Street in an unrivaled posture.
Julian and Cassandra took over the top floor of the "Paradise Tower," Serafina's former study, the place where Serafina was assassinated, which had been redesigned and transformed into their private reception room. The Ottoman dagger that once hung on the wall was replaced by a giant portrait of Cassandra, in which she looked as pure as an angel.
The transfer of power was swift and cold-blooded.
Julian convened a video conference for the elite council. Those members who had recorded videos accusing him at the banquet were now silent as cicadas in winter on the screen.
"Betrayal comes with a price," Julian's voice was calm yet carried an undeniable authority, "From today, your right to reside in the 'Paradise Tower' is terminated, and all your investments in the Thorn Group will be forcibly liquidated."
No arguments, no pleas for mercy. The faces on the screen darkened one by one, then their connections were cut off. They were cleanly removed from the tower, like viruses being eliminated from a system.
A new list was quickly established, new members replaced the old positions, they were younger and more compliant.
Absolute authority was re-established after the bloody purge.
To celebrate Julian and Cassandra's "rebirth" and the birth of the new empire, the banquet hall of the "Paradise Tower" was once again brilliantly illuminated.
Everything seemed to have returned to the starting point, even more magnificent than before. Guests in elegant attire held champagne glasses, their faces beaming with bright smiles, offering their most enthusiastic congratulations to the tower's new masters.
That bloody banquet, that dead woman, that imprisoned killer, all seemed like insignificant episodes, easily forgotten.
"For Julian and Cassandra!" Someone raised a glass high.
"To the new era of 'Paradise Tower'!" Echoes of agreement rose one after another.
Julian stood in the center of the crowd, left hand holding a wine glass, right arm around Cassandra's waist, enjoying the adoration of everyone. The smile on his face was flawless, like that of a benevolent and generous king.
Bernard Rand, the old man who once vowed to avenge his son, was now humbly toasting Julian, his face filled with ingratiating smiles. Scarlett, the mistress abandoned by Julian, was flirting with a new wealthy man, as if she had found a new patron.
Everyone had quickly chosen new allegiances, attaching themselves to the new center of power. The people in this tower were like moths drawn to light - whoever shined brightest, they flocked to them, even if beneath that radiance lay flames that would consume them.
A false peace shrouded the entire tower, but beneath this harmonious façade lurked even more turbulent undercurrents.
Cassandra's gaze inadvertently swept across Julian's profile, where a flash of shrewdness and calculation momentarily appeared. And when Julian clinked glasses with a banker, the corner of his eye also coldly glanced at the woman beside him.
They were allies, and also each other's most dangerous enemies.
In the corner of the banquet hall, a young man who had just been admitted to the elite circle was watching Julian at the top with an almost greedy gaze. That look was filled with ambition, desire, and the cold murderous intent of someone waiting for the opportunity to take his place.
Julian had eliminated his enemies, yet in doing so had created even more new ones for himself.
This game of power would never have an endpoint. Death was not the end, but merely the beginning of another hunt.
Julian seemed to sense that gaze, he turned his head and made eye contact with the young man for a second. The smile remained on his face, only now it was no longer warm, reflecting an ice-cold gleam.
