The Million Dollar Ultimatum

The silence in the dining room hung heavy, stifling the air until a sudden, sharp ringtone shattered it. Valerie’s phone vibrated against the polished marble table, the harsh buzzing echoing off the high ceilings. Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to the glowing screen.

Bridget’s chest heaved. She pointed a trembling finger at the device. "Answer it," she hissed.

Valerie picked up the phone. With her abusive family anxiously watching her every move like hawks, she tapped the green button and deliberately put the call on speaker, resting the device flat on her palm.

"Hello?" Valerie said, her voice steady and smooth.

A soft, deep chuckle drifted from the speaker, vibrating through the quiet room. "Hello, little girl. Were you waiting for my call?" Alaric’s magnetic voice filled the tense space, laced with a casual dominance that made Wallace stiffen and Bridget’s eyes widen.

Valerie paused, catching Bridget’s frantic nodding and Wallace's sudden wide-eyed stare. She cleared her throat. "Are you... available to come over to my place? My family wants to meet you."

The line fell silent. Wallace, Rowena, and Bridget stopped breathing. They stared at the phone as if their futures depended on the next words spoken, their postures rigid with desperation.

"Sure! I'll come over in half an hour," Alaric replied without hesitation.

Click. The call ended, returning the room to an eerie quiet.

Bridget’s face instantly flushed bright red. She let out a breathless squeal, grabbing her mother’s arm and shaking it. "Mom! Dad! Did you hear that? He’s coming over!" she blurted out, her overwhelming joy erasing her earlier rage. The prospect of Alaric Sinclair stepping into their home sent a dizzying rush to her head.

Wallace let out a long sigh, profound relief washing over his aging features. His expensive scheme was finally in motion. He adjusted his collar, standing a bit taller, and waved a casual, cruel hand at Valerie. "It looks like everything's sorted. Valerie, you can go upstairs now. Mr. Sinclair will be here soon, and you need to stay out of sight. We can't have you ruining Bridget's moment."

Valerie held her ground firmly, her feet planted on the floor. She slipped her phone into her pocket, a slight, mocking smile playing on her lips. She wasn't about to vanish just because he commanded it. "Dad, when am I getting that 1.2 million dollars?"

Wallace’s expression darkened instantly. The brief warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a calculating, hostile glare. "That depends on how things go between Mr. Sinclair and Bridget. Whether you see a dime of it or not relies on his approval."

Valerie arched an eyebrow, refusing to back down. She glanced at Rowena, then shifted her gaze to her half-sister. "With Bridget's looks, are you worried Mr. Sinclair won't find her attractive?"

"Of course not!" Bridget snapped, puffing out her chest and glaring daggers at Valerie.

"Then why are you holding onto my money?" Valerie pressed, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Bridget gaped, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for a comeback.

Stepping in smoothly to defuse the bomb, Rowena placed a gentle hand on Wallace’s rigid shoulder. She plastered on a sweet smile. "Valerie, sweetie, what do you need so much money for? You're about to start your internship. Mr. Montgomery Prescott is planning to arrange your wedding with Donovan soon. How about considering this massive sum as a proper dowry for your arranged marriage?"

Rowena wanted to trap the funds, keeping them just out of reach.

Valerie’s expression turned chilly. Her eyes hardened into shards of ice. "Dad! I made it crystal clear yesterday in front of everyone. I reiterated it today when they came. There's no chance between Donovan and me." She took a deep, steadying breath, ruthlessly leveraging her unique position. The power dynamic had shifted, and she knew exactly how to play her hand. "If you don't want me stirring up trouble in front of Alaric, then agree to pay."

Wallace gritted his teeth. His knuckles turned white against the tabletop as the reality of her threat sank in.

Cornered, Rowena hastily pacified him. She squeezed his arm, whispering frantic assurances, then turned her bright, fake smile back on Valerie. "All right, all right. Let's lay off the Donovan situation for now. Mr. Sinclair will be here shortly. Go upstairs. Once his visit concludes, we will settle the money immediately."

Smirking at their sheer shamelessness, Valerie turned on her heel and headed upstairs to wait. They were so desperate to climb the social ladder they would agree to anything. She knew Alaric would play his part perfectly. All she had to do was bide her time.

Half an hour later, the heavy oak front doors swung open.

Alaric arrived, flanked by his stoic assistant, Dexter. The moment Alaric stepped across the threshold, his formidable, overwhelming presence dominated the grand living room. The air grew dense, suffocating under the weight of his undeniable authority.

Wallace rushed forward, fumbling a pathetic bow in sheer embarrassment. He instinctively humbled himself, terrified by the man's dark aura. His confident facade crumbled the second Alaric laid eyes on him.

Alaric ignored the frantic greeting. He strode past Wallace, his leather shoes clicking against the polished floor, and gracefully settled onto the expensive couch in the center of the room. He casually crossed his immensely long legs, leaning back into the cushions. His perfectly tailored black attire clung to his broad shoulders and narrow waist, exuding a dangerous grace.

Bridget stood rooted to the spot, utterly captivated. She practically drooled over his stunning, chiseled features. The man looked like a myth, his deep eyes swirling with an untouchable power. She smoothed her designer dress, ensuring her posture highlighted her figure.

Dexter stood quietly behind the couch, observing the chaotic family with a blank face, silently noting their desperate scrambling. He recognized Bridget from the office earlier that morning and couldn't help but pity Brooks, who was likely still reeling from her sudden dismissal.

Rowena stepped forward, attempting to display warm, aristocratic hospitality. "Mr. Sinclair, welcome," she greeted, projecting elegance. "Would you like some tea? We have a premium Earl Grey. Or perhaps some coffee? I can have it brewed fresh in just a moment."

Alaric waved a large hand with visible impatience. He didn't care for their pathetic attempts at high society pleasantries. His sharp eyes scanned the empty spaces of the living room, searching the winding staircase and the adjacent hallways, finding nothing of interest.

"I'm here to see Valerie. Where is she?" he asked coldly.

Rowena sat directly across from him on the matching loveseat. She smiled her most practiced, smooth smile, leaning forward slightly to appear earnest. "Mr. Sinclair, apologies, but the Prescott family came and took Valerie away. She's engaged to Donovan, the heir of Apex Ventures Real Estate. So..."

"She was taken away?" Alaric cut in sharply.

Without waiting for a convoluted explanation, he aggressively pulled out his phone and dialed Valerie's number. The device pressed to his ear, he listened to the endless ringing. It went straight to voicemail. He lowered the phone, his jaw tightening. His sharp, lethal gaze shifted slowly to the trembling family. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Wallace wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his heart pounding in his chest. "Mr. Sinclair, let me explain—"

"I've got nothing to discuss with you, Mr. Caldwell," Alaric warned coldly. His deep voice resonated with a menacing edge, carrying a lethal promise. "If you can keep yesterday's matters under wraps, I can ensure an accurate report gets out. Or perhaps you'd like to challenge me?"

Sweating profusely, Wallace quickly backpedaled. He waved his hands in defense, panic flashing in his eyes. "I wouldn't dare, Mr. Sinclair. You must be kidding. I just wanted to introduce my daughter to you." He gestured cautiously to the girl standing beside the couch.

Bridget nodded with practiced grace. She stepped into Alaric's line of sight and offered a delicate, shy smile. "Mr. Sinclair, it's a pleasure," she greeted softly, her eyelashes batting in a rhythmic flutter.

Alaric narrowed his cold eyes. He sat perfectly still, silently and intensely scrutinizing Bridget’s face. He didn't say a single word, just watched her with an unreadable, piercing stare.

Bridget blushed deeply under his intense gaze. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. She happily allowed herself to be appraised, assuming his stony silence was a sign of genuine interest. She lifted her chin, putting her best features on full display.

Seizing the tiny opening, Rowena rapidly interjected to dismiss Valerie as a total loose cannon. "Mr. Sinclair, we truly apologize for Valerie’s sudden absence. She can be quite difficult to manage. To be honest, she has been acting erratically and insane since her mother's death. It is tragic, but she is unpredictable and unstable. You shouldn't waste your precious time on her."

Rowena shifted closer, praising Bridget with a beaming, triumphant smile. "Bridget and Valerie grew up together, but Bridget is vastly gentler, more sensible, and deeply understanding. She knows how to properly host a guest of your immense stature." Rowena gestured fluidly toward the large glass doors leading outside. "How about letting Bridget accompany you to our garden? The air is quite nice. If you insist on seeing Valerie, then please wait here until she returns. Is this suitable for you?"