Chapter 11: The Fall of the Mask**
"I'd rather throw it over the balcony," Clara declared bravely, holding the drive over the polished marble edge.
Raymond laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Go ahead. Julian is already locked inside his study, helpless in that wretched chair of his. Without him, you're nothing but an orphan with a fake wedding ring."
Raymond signaled his men to move in. Clara prepared to brace for impact.
*BAM!*
The heavy oak doors of the master suite swung open with violent force. Raymond turned in annoyance, expecting another servant.
Instead, Julian Vance strode out—on his own two feet.
He was not using a cane, nor was he leaning on the walls. He walked with the terrifying, athletic grace of a panther unleashed. His tuxedo was impeccable, his presence commanding, and his face a mask of pure fury.
Raymond’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. "J-Julian?! You... you can walk?!"
The guards froze in disbelief. The man they believed was crippled stood over six feet tall, radiating an aura of lethal authority.
"I can do much more than walk, Raymond," Julian said, his voice echoing across the high ceilings of the estate.
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Before the nearest guard could raise his taser, Julian closed the distance in a blur. He grabbed the guard's wrist, dislocating it with a single, practiced twist, and drove him face-first into the marble balustrade. The guard collapsed instantly.
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