Chapter 4 - The Visit
Julian stood in the lobby, hyperventilating as the reality of his situation crashed down on him.
He didn't own the tech.
He didn't own the company.
He was a fraud, a figurehead who had been expertly outmaneuvered by the woman he had treated like garbage.
"Escort Mr. Vance off the premises," Marcus ordered the guards.
"If he resists, call the police."
Julian didn't resist.
He was too in shock to fight back as the guards physically marched him out the revolving doors and onto the busy sidewalk.
He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking violently.
He dialed my number.
It went straight to voicemail.
He dialed Vivienne.
She answered on the fourth ring.
"Viv, I need you to come pick me up," he pleaded.
"Julian, where are you?" she asked, her voice sounding strangely distant.
"I'm outside the office, they locked me out," he explained frantically.
"Clara did something, she hacked the system, but I can fix it."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"I can't come get you, Julian," she said softly.
"Why not?" he snapped, his temper flaring again.
"Because I'm at the loft, and moving men are here packing up your things," she replied.
"What?!" he screamed into the phone.
"The building manager said the lease was terminated this morning," Vivienne continued.
"I'm taking my stuff and going to my sister's place."
"You can't leave me, Viv!" he begged.
"Julian, you have no money, no company, and no apartment," she said, her tone dripping with newfound cruelty.
"I don't do broke men."
The line went dead.
Julian stared at his phone, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
He hailed a taxi, intending to go to the hospital to confront me.
When the cab arrived at the entrance, he reached into his wallet.
His platinum credit cards were all declined.
"Sorry, buddy, card's no good," the driver said.
Julian had to empty his pockets, handing over a crumpled twenty-dollar bill just to cover the fare.
He stormed into the hospital lobby, demanding to see me.
"Clara Vance, what room is she in?" he barked at the receptionist.
The woman typed on her keyboard, her face passive.
"I'm sorry, sir, that patient is unlisted," she replied.
"I am her husband!" he roared, slamming his fist on the counter.
Two large security guards materialized behind him within seconds.
"Sir, you need to leave, or you will be arrested for disturbing the peace," one of them warned.
May you like
Julian looked at the guards, then at the receptionist, his entire world crumbling into dust.
He turned and walked out the sliding glass doors, a king suddenly transformed into a peasant.
