He sneered, leaning down. “You built nothing. You’re a pathetic, broke schoolteacher. I am the Executive Vice President of this company. You cannot fight me, Vivienne.

You are nothing.”

Right on cue, the oak double doors of the ballroom slammed open with the force of a thunderclap.

The string quartet stopped with a violent screech of strings. The crowd turned as one.

Silhouetted in the doorway, flanked by a dozen federal investigators, tactical auditors, and Sterling Capital’s senior legal counsel, stood my brother.

Victor Sterling stepped into the light, his eyes locked on Dominic like a sniper acquiring a target.