Chapter 10
The first amber rays of dawn broke over the rugged canyon ridges, casting a warm, golden glow across the glass and steel architecture of the Vance estate. The chaos of the previous night—the loud party, the arrogant gatecrashers, the frantic digital assault—seemed like a distant nightmare. Inside the sunlit living room, Julian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a steaming mug of black coffee. He watched through the glass as two unmarked federal vehicles and a local police cruiser slowly rolled up the long, winding driveway, their emergency lights muted in the morning light.
The front door chimed softly, and the AI Butler released the security locks. Two federal agents in tailored suits, accompanied by a local police detective, stepped into the minimalist entryway. Julian turned to greet them, his expression composed and steady.
"Mr. Vance?" the lead federal agent asked, flashing a badge identifying himself as Special Agent Miller—no relation to the disgraced estate manager.
"Agent Miller. Right on time," Julian said, offering a polite nod. He gestured toward the descending spiral staircase. "The intruders are secured in the subterranean server vault. The physical data tap and their diagnostic equipment have been isolated and preserved in a Faraday cage to protect the digital evidence."
Detective Vance, a seasoned local investigator, looked at the young man with evident surprise. "You handled an active corporate espionage breach on your own, Mr. Vance? Without calling local law enforcement immediately?"
"I evaluated the threat parameters and utilized the estate's automated security infrastructure to neutralize them safely," Julian explained calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. "Calling local units prematurely would have triggered their remote self-destruct script on the servers. I needed to secure the data perimeter first."
The federal agent nodded in quiet appreciation, noting the cool professionalism of the twenty-year-old heir. "Smart move. Your father taught you well. We've been tracking this syndicate for months. They've been infiltrating high-end tech estates across the coast, looking for proprietary neural models. Jaxson Cole—the kid running the party front—was just a low-level pawn for a larger syndicate, but his cooperation will help us take down the principals."
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"He's downstairs waiting for you," Julian said. "He understands his position now."
As the agents headed down the spiral staircase to take custody of Jax and his accomplice, Julian walked back to the kitchen island. He looked down at the control panel embedded in the quartz countertop. The house was secure, the data was protected, and the shadow cast by the previous night's trespassers had been thoroughly scrubbed away by the morning sun.
