Chapter 5 - Julian’s Desperate Crawl
By Thursday afternoon, the Vance family’s social standing had evaporated. The Oak Bay Country Club committee had quietly suspended Arthur’s membership pending an ethics review, and three major corporate sponsors had pulled out of Vance Industries' upcoming quarterly charity golf tournament. But while Arthur and Victoria were busy consulting crisis PR firms, Julian attempted his own pathetic maneuver.
I was working at my laptop in a corner booth of a quiet coffee shop near the federal courthouse when Julian walked in. He looked haggard, his designer suit wrinkled, and he had dark circles under his eyes that suggested he hadn't slept since the country club disaster.
He spotted me, rushed over, and dropped into the booth across from me without asking. He reached across the table, trying to grab my hands, but I pulled them back, folding my arms across my chest.
"Elena, thank God I found you," Julian breathed, his voice trembling with manufactured emotion. "This has all gone too far. My dad is out of his mind with rage, and my mom is crying hysterically at the house. We have to stop this before everything is destroyed."
"You don't stop an avalanche once the mountain slides, Julian," I said, taking a sip of my espresso without looking up from my screen. "I told you what would happen if your father ever raised a hand to me."
"I know, I know! And I was wrong!" Julian cried out, his voice cracking as several customers turned to stare at us. "I should have defended you! I was a coward! But I’m ready to stand up to him now, Elena. I’m ready to cut ties with my parents. We can take whatever money is in our joint accounts, move to California or Europe, and start fresh. Just you and me. But you have to tell your lawyer to retract the video and drop whatever crazy investigation you’re doing into the company."
I stopped typing and looked Julian dead in the eye. For three years, I had believed that behind his passive, spoiled exterior was a man capable of growth. Now, with the analytical clarity of an intelligence officer, I saw him for what he truly was: a parasite trying to secure his host before the ship sank.
"You don't care about defending me, Julian," I said softly, my voice devoid of any warmth. "You care about your trust fund. You realize that if the Department of Justice opens a procurement fraud investigation into Vance Industries, your inheritance gets seized under federal asset forfeiture laws."
Julian flinched, the color draining from his face. "That’s... that’s not true! I love you, Elena!"
"If you loved me, you wouldn't have watched your sister dump her dirty underwear at my feet and told me to learn my place," I replied. "And if you were smart, you would have checked your own signature logs before coming here today."
"My... my signature logs?" Julian stammered, looking genuinely confused.
"Your father didn't just run his Aegis shell company on his own," I explained, leaning forward. "He needed a secondary corporate officer to sign off on the customs import certificates for the cheap ceramic armor. He used your name, Julian. You’ve been signing federal import declarations for five years without reading them."
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Julian’s breath caught in his throat. "No... Dad said those were just standard corporate compliance forms for my board seat!"
"You co-signed federal fraud, Julian," I said, closing my laptop and sliding out of the booth. "You’re looking at ten years in a federal penitentiary right alongside him. I suggest you stop crying in coffee shops and start looking for a criminal defense attorney who knows how to negotiate a plea deal."
