Chapter 2 - The Sins of the Father
The next morning, I didn't go to the office. I took the private elevator straight to the penthouse of my father, Arthur Vance.
At seventy-one, he was still terrifying. He sat at his mahogany dining table, sipping espresso and reading the Wall Street Journal.
"Julian," he said without looking up. "You missed the European merger call."
I slammed a printed copy of the birth certificate onto the newspaper. "Clara Sterling. Does the name ring a bell?"
My father froze. Slowly, he lowered his coffee cup. He didn't look shocked; he looked annoyed. "Where did you get this?"
"It doesn't matter," I snarled. "You abandoned a child. You left your own flesh and blood to rot in Queens while we lived in palaces! And now she's dying, and her daughter—your granddaughter—is wearing shoes held together by duct tape!"
Arthur stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. "Watch your tone, Julian. Clara and her mother were a mistake from a previous life. A liability. I paid them off to disappear."
"You ruined them!" I shouted.
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"I protected my empire!" he roared back, slamming his fist on the table. "Everything you have—the cars, the penthouses, your precious CEO title—exists because I made the hard choices. If that woman is dying, let her die. But if you bring that bastard child into this family and risk a media scandal, I will strip you of everything."
I looked at the man who raised me, realizing I didn't know him at all. "Try it," I whispered.
