Chapter 6
The glow of Julian’s smartphone screen illuminated the dark interior of the sedan as he captured high-definition footage of Marcus Cole handing the thick envelope to Judge Morrison on the brightly lit porch.
“That’s Marcus Cole,” Elena breathed, her fingers digging into the dashboard fabric as a wave of cold dread washed over her. “He’s Matthew’s senior partner. He never gets his hands dirty directly... if he’s here at 1:00 AM bribing the registrar personally, it means the conspiracy goes much higher than we thought.”
Julian shifted the car into park and popped his seatbelt. “Stay in the car, Elena. Keep the doors locked, and if anyone approaches, sound the alarm.”
“No,” Elena said, her voice dropping all hesitation as she reached for her door handle. Her pale blue eyes flashed with sudden, fierce determination. “That’s my family home they are trading away like poker chips. I am not sitting in a car while men in suits steal my entire life.”
Before Julian could object, Elena pushed her door open and stepped out onto the damp pavement. Julian exhaled slowly, recognizing the stubborn spark in her eyes, and stepped out of the driver's side to follow her step-for-step.
The crunch of their footsteps on the gravel driveway shattered the quiet midnight air of the upscale neighborhood. Judge Morrison and Marcus Cole froze midway through their exchange on the porch, both men turning sharply toward the source of the noise.
Cole’s smooth, aristocratic expression twisted into a sneer as he recognized Julian’s immaculate white suit and Elena’s cream-colored knit cardigan standing beneath the oak trees.
“Well, well,” Cole called out, his voice smooth and dripping with patronizing amusement as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “If it isn’t the disgraced heiress and her white-knight stalker. You’re trespassing on private property, Julian. Or should I call the county sheriff to have you both dragged off in cuffs?”
Judge Morrison looked visibly panicked, hastily trying to slide the thick envelope behind his back. “Mr. Cole, who are these people? I demand you leave immediately, or I will call the police myself.”
“Don’t bother calling them, Judge,” Julian said, his voice ringing out with effortless authority as he walked steadily up the stone steps. “They’re already dealing with Matthew downtown. It would save everyone a lot of paperwork if you added your own name to the arrest manifest.”
Cole’s smirk faltered slightly, though he quickly recovered his composure. “You’re bluffing, Julian. Matthew is handling a routine civil dispute. You have no legal standing here, and Morrison has absolute judicial immunity regarding property filings.”
Julian stopped two steps below Cole, towering over the senior attorney with an intense, unyielding gaze. He reached into his jacket, pulled out the digital recorder, and hit play.
May you like
The clear, crisp audio of Cole’s voice echoed across the porch: "Just make sure Morrison stamps the Cayman shell transfer before the digital audit triggers on Monday morning, or the whole scheme falls apart."
Cole’s face drained of color, his jaw dropping as he realized the depth of the surveillance trap closing in around him.
