BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS RECLAIMED HER THRONE

Chapter 3: The Queen's Midnight Guard

The heavy oak doors of the Valentine villa slammed shut behind Avery, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the silent, prestigious neighborhood.

For three years, that door had been a prison gate. Tonight, it was the start of a war.

The night air was crisp, biting at Avery's skin, but she didn't shiver. She stood at the top of the marble stairs, watching as a fleet of six obsidian-black Rolls-Royces glided silently up the driveway. Their headlights cut through the gloom, blinding and predatory, bathing the front of the villa in a clinical, white light.

Lucca had followed her to the porch, his face a mask of confusion and burgeoning fury. He was still holding the signed divorce papers, the wine stains on his shoes damp and pathetic in the moonlight.

"Avery! Stop this nonsense!" he bellowed, though his voice lacked its usual bite. He was shaken. The voice she had used-the sheer authority in it-was haunting him. "Who are these people? Did you hire actors? Is this some desperate play to make me jealous?"

Avery didn't turn around. She didn't have to.

From the lead car, a man stepped out. He was tall, dressed in a sharp, military-pressed suit, his hair slicked back without a single strand out of place. This was Marcus Thorne-no relation to Melanie, much to Marcus's eternal disgust. He was the Chief Operating Officer of the Woods Group and the only man who had known where Avery had been hiding for the last thousand days.

Marcus walked past Lucca as if the CEO of Valentine Group were nothing more than a stray pebble on the path. He stopped in front of Avery and bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching his knees.

"The throne has been kept warm for you, Madam President," Marcus said, his voice carrying clearly in the night air. "The board is in emergency session. They await your command."

"Wait... President?" Lucca stumbled forward, his eyes bulging. "Marcus Thorne? You're the COO of the Woods Group! Why are you bowing to her? She's a mute! She's a nobody!"

Marcus straightened up, his eyes flashing with a cold, professional disdain. "Mr. Valentine, you have spent three years married to the sole heiress of the Woods global empire. The fact that you didn't notice speaks volumes about why your company's profit margins have plummeted by 22% this quarter."

Avery finally turned her head, looking at Lucca over her shoulder. The wind caught her hair, making it dance like dark silk.

"I told you, Lucca," she said, her voice smooth as velvet and sharp as a diamond. "You didn't marry a placeholder. You married a predator. You just weren't interesting enough for me to hunt... until now."

The First Move

"Get in the car," Lucca lunged for her arm, his ego finally snapping. "You're still my wife until these papers are filed! You're not going anywhere with these-"

Before his hand could even graze Avery's sleeve, two shadows appeared from the second car. They were Avery's personal security detail-twins who moved with the synchronization of ghosts. In one fluid motion, Lucca was pinned against the cold stone pillar of his own porch, his arm twisted painfully behind his back.

"Don't touch the President," one of them whispered.

"Let him go," Avery commanded softly.

The guards obeyed instantly, stepping back into the shadows. Lucca slumped against the pillar, gasping, his pride disintegrating faster than his stock options. He watched, paralyzed, as Marcus opened the door to the lead Rolls-Royce for Avery.

As she sat in the plush leather interior, Marcus handed her a slim, gold-plated tablet.

"Update, Marcus," Avery said, her fingers flying across the screen.

"The Valentine Group has three major loans maturing at midnight," Marcus reported as the car began to move, leaving the villa-and Lucca-behind in a cloud of dust. "They were expecting a bridge loan from the Woods Group's subsidiary. I've put a hold on the approval."

Avery watched the villa disappear through the tinted rear window. "Good. Let them sweat for twelve hours. By noon tomorrow, I want every vendor associated with the Woods Group to cease all shipments to Valentine factories. If they want to play house with Melanie Thorne, they can do it in a house that's foreclosed."

The Hidden Trap

The car sped toward the city center, the skyline of the metropolis glowing like a crown of electricity. At the center of it stood the Woods Plaza, a 110-story monolith of glass and steel.

Avery leaned back, closing her eyes. "And Melanie? What is our 'heroine' doing?"

Marcus hesitated. "She's currently at the Starlight Lounge, Ma'am. She's hosting a 'Celebration of New Beginnings' party. She's been telling the press that she is the reason for the upcoming merger between Valentine and Woods."

Avery's eyes snapped open. A cold, dangerous light flickered in them. "She's using my name to sell her lies? How poetic."

"She also leaked a photo to the tabloids," Marcus added, sliding a phone toward her.

Avery looked at the screen. It was a grainy photo of her-Avery-scrubbing the front steps of the Valentine villa a month ago. The headline read: FROM MAID TO MISERY: THE TRAGIC DOWNFALL OF LUCCA VALENTINE'S SILENT WIFE.

The article went on to suggest that Avery was mentally unstable and that Lucca was "charitably" divorcing her to save his company's reputation.

Avery didn't get angry. She smiled. It was the kind of smile that preceded a natural disaster.

"Marcus, change of plans," Avery said. "We aren't going to the office yet."

"Where to, Ma'am?"

"The Starlight Lounge. If Melanie wants to throw a party for her 'new beginning,' it would be rude of me not to provide the entertainment."

The fleet of cars redirected, tires screeching as they performed a synchronized U-turn.

As they approached the glittering entrance of the Starlight Lounge, Avery pulled a small, velvet box from the hidden compartment in the car's armrest. Inside was a necklace-the Blue Heart of the Ocean, a 50-carat sapphire that had been missing from the world market for fifty years.

"Tonight, the world finds out that the 'maid' didn't just have a voice," Avery whispered, clasping the heavy cold gems around her neck. "She has a crown."

Just as the car pulled up to the red carpet, Avery's phone buzzed. It was an encrypted message from an unknown number.

Her breath hitched as she read the words:

"The tiger returns to the woods, but the hunter is already in the tree. Look to your left, Avery. I've missed you."