Chapter 7
The rain had turned into a steady, gray deluge by the time Julian’s sleek black sedan pulled up outside the minimalist glass-and-steel penthouse overlooking the financial district. This was David Thorne’s domain—a sterile, hyper-modern sanctuary where art was expensive, furniture was uncomfortable, and every conversation felt like a hostile corporate takeover.
Julian didn't wait for the doorman to announce him. He swiped his master override card at the private elevator terminal, the mechanism humming as it carried him straight to the penthouse foyer without stopping. When the doors slid open, the loft-style apartment was dark except for the amber glow of a single designer floor lamp illuminating a sprawling marble kitchen island.
David Thorne stood by the counter, pouring two fingers of neat bourbon into a heavy crystal tumbler. He wore a charcoal cashmere sweater over an open-collared shirt, looking entirely unbothered by the midnight visit or the scandals currently brewing downtown. He didn't even turn around as Julian’s heavy footsteps clicked across the polished concrete floor.
"I figured it would take you about twelve hours to connect the dots," David said calmly, taking a slow sip of his drink before turning to face Julian with a thin, polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You always were the slowest reader in the room, Julian, though certainly the most moral."
Julian closed the distance between them in three long strides, his hand shooting out to grab David by the collar of his cashmere sweater, shoving him hard against the marble counter. The crystal tumbler slipped from David’s hand, shattering against the floor with a sharp, explosive crash that sent amber liquid splashing across the pristine tiles. "You used my wife," Julian hissed, his voice trembling with a lethal mix of fury and betrayal. "You used her vanity, her panic, and her fear to set up an innocent girl just to cover your embezzlement tracks."
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David didn't struggle against the grip. Instead, a cold, mocking chuckle escaped his throat. He looked down at Julian’s fist holding his collar, then raised his gaze to meet Julian’s furious eyes without a trace of fear. "Used her? Julian, please. Victoria didn't need much convincing. She loves the spotlight, even when it’s burning her alive. The foundation has been empty for eighteen months. Every penny of that endowment went into your brother’s failing tech startups to keep your family name out of the bankruptcy courts. If anyone went down for fraud, the whole house of cards collapses—including your precious lifestyle."
Julian’s grip slowly loosened, the fight draining from his limbs as the brutal reality set in. It wasn't just Victoria’s conspiracy; it was a family disaster of their own making, and he had been willfully blind to it all along, profiting off the very corruption he now claimed to despise.
