Confined to a Psychiatric Institution for Stealing a 10-Carat Wedding Dress, the Billionaire Woman and Her Hacker Son Shock the Entire Super-Rich World in the Dark
THE DRAGON TRAP ABOVE MANHATTAN
I woke with a pounding headache, as though someone had struck the inside of my skull with a hammer.
The dim yellow bedside lamp cast a dull glow across my luxurious Upper East Side penthouse bedroom. For several agonizing seconds, I couldn’t understand why my mouth tasted bitterly foul or why my limbs felt as heavy as lead.
I forced myself to glance toward the hundred-square-meter dressing room.
Empty.
The champagne-colored gala gown, hand-stitched with thousands of Swarovski crystals for the Royal Charity Ball, was gone. Missing too were my 10-carat diamond earrings, my grandmother’s heirloom gold bracelet, my carved jade wedding ring… and the gold-embossed invitation bearing my name: Victoria Sterling.
I tried to push myself up, but my body collapsed back onto the mattress.
Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper who had served my family for over twenty years, stood at the doorway, her hands trembling violently as she held a glass of warm water.
“What time is it, Mrs. Henderson?” I asked, my voice rasping like grinding metal.
“Almost eight o’clock, ma’am. The gala started thirty minutes ago…” Mrs. Henderson bowed her head, unable to look me in the eye. “Miss Samantha told the staff that you were suffering from a nervous breakdown and weren’t mentally fit to attend. She said she would go in your place so Mr. Julian wouldn’t be humiliated in front of the Wall Street investors. Mr. Julian… he didn’t even bother to check on you. He simply took her hand and stepped into the limousine.”
Samantha Reed. Once my closest friend.
When she went bankrupt and was ostracized by New York’s high society, I was the one who paid off her millions in debt. I brought her into this penthouse, arranged for her to become Vice President of Communications at my family’s firm, Sterling Global, and handed her a ticket back into the world of the ultra-rich.
She used to hold me, crying, calling me the “only sister she ever had.”
Then, bit by bit, she began devouring my life.
First, it was wearing the custom Paris perfume I used. Next, she subtly copied my wardrobe and the way I walked. Before long, she was accompanying my husband—Julian—on yacht trips and private meetings in London that used to be reserved for me.
Tonight, the curtain finally fell on her play.
I remembered the last thing I had consumed before losing consciousness: a bowl of rich abalone soup brought straight to my bed by Samantha herself.
“You’re exhausted, Victoria,” she had whispered in a sweet, honeyed voice. “Drink this and get some rest. I’ll make sure I take good care of Julian tonight…”
I had trusted her. Not because I was foolish, but because I couldn’t fathom that someone I had pulled out of the gutter could deliberately poison my food with heavy sedatives.
“Master Leo was here an hour ago,” Mrs. Henderson whispered, handing me a folded note resting under a sleek black queen chess piece.
I instantly recognized the handwriting of my eighteen-year-old son—Leo Sterling.
Mom, don’t be afraid. The performance has only just begun. It’s time to dethrone the King.
Beneath the words, he had drawn a black queen crushing a white king on a chessboard.
Leo had never been an ordinary child. At thirteen, he had secretly hacked into his father’s financial database to learn how capital flowed. By sixteen, he owned a stealth investment fund worth hundreds of millions. In Julian’s eyes, Leo was just a quiet, depressed teenager who spent too much time glued to his computer screen.
Julian never realized that the son he looked down upon had been planting hidden bugs and tracking Samantha’s and his every move for the past two years.
My phone vibrated. A live secure stream link sent directly from Leo.
The screen lit up to reveal the glittering grand ballroom of The Plaza Hotel. Samantha was linking arms with Julian, wearing my champagne gown, draped in my heirloom jewelry, beaming radiantly before hundreds of press cameras.
Suddenly, the announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers: “Please welcome Chairman Julian Sterling and his new fiancée—the future Mrs. Sterling, Samantha!”
Julian heard it… and merely smiled, wrapping his arm around Samantha’s waist, implicitly confirming it. They intended to declare me mentally unfit and locked away, so they could lawfully seize all my shares in Sterling Global!
My bedroom door burst open. Leo stepped in, holding a high-spec hacker laptop. His voice was as cold as a New York winter:
“Mom, the drug Samantha used on you contains banned chemical compounds. I’ve recorded video evidence of her slipping it into your soup. And that’s not all…”
Leo tapped the keyboard, and a chilling audio recording played aloud.
It was Samantha’s voice, calmly negotiating with our family doctor: “Just keep her mind foggy for a few months until I force her to sign over her 35% stake in Sterling Global to Julian. After that, arrange an ‘accident’ for her on the way to the asylum.”
My chest heaved with rage. My weak, fluttering pulse suddenly pounded like a war drum.
I looked up at my son. “I’m ready.”
Leo smirked—a ruthless smile that mirrored my own youth. He picked up a satellite phone and uttered just three words:
“Execute the Operation.”
Instantly, on the livestream screen, the lights across the entire Plaza ballroom went completely pitch black. Panic and gasps echoed through the darkness.
Samantha and Julian had no idea that federal agents, the board of directors, and the true owner of Sterling Global—me—were already on our way to take back everything.
