Chapter 14 - The Final Piece
Julian stared at the cryptic note on the kitchen table, the elegant handwriting seeming to mock the hard-won peace of the past week. He walked over to the window, pulling the blinds back to look down at the quiet street below, but there was no sign of anyone watching. He dialed Marcus’s number immediately, the phone ringing three times before his lawyer picked up.
"Marcus, I need you to run a trace on a piece of mail I just received," Julian said, his voice tense.
"Julian, calm down," Marcus sighed on the other end. "Arthur’s been indicted, the estate is in receivership, and you have full custody. What could possibly be wrong now?"
Julian read the note aloud word for word. Silence hung on the line for a long moment before Marcus spoke again, his tone dropping all professional pretense.
"That handwriting... it doesn't match Clara’s, and it certainly doesn't match Arthur's," Marcus said slowly. "Julian, when Clara gave you that flash drive in the bank vault, did she explain where she got it?"
"She said she stole it from Arthur’s private files," Julian replied, a cold realization beginning to form in his chest.
"She couldn't have," Marcus said grimly. "Arthur’s internal IT security was locked behind biometric encryption that only Arthur himself could bypass. Even Eleanor couldn't access those drives. For Clara to get that flash drive, someone inside the inner circle had to hand it to her on a silver platter."
"Who?" Julian demanded.
"I don't know," Marcus admitted. "But whoever it is, they didn't do it to help you take down the Sterlings. They did it to use you as a wrecking ball."
Before Julian could process the implications, a sharp knock sounded at the front door. It wasn't the heavy, aggressive pounding of Arthur’s enforcers, but a single, calm, deliberate rap.
Julian walked down the hallway, motioning for Marcus to stay on the line as he placed his phone on the counter. He reached out, turned the deadbolt, and pulled the door open.
Standing on the porch was Clara. She wasn't wearing her trench coat; she wore a simple, elegant dark dress, her expression calm, composed, and entirely devoid of the nervous tension she had displayed at the holding facility.
"Can I come in, Julian?" Clara asked softly.
Julian stepped back, holding the door open. Clara walked into the apartment, her eyes scanning the modest living room before settling on Julian, who closed the door behind her and locked it.
"You didn't just steal those files from Arthur, did you?" Julian asked, his voice steady and cold.
May you like
Clara turned around slowly, a faint, sad smile touching the corners of her lips. "I didn't have to, Julian. Arthur was never the head of the family. He was just the dog on the leash."
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