Chapter 4: A Fractured Alliance
Julian didn't lunge, nor did he panic. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest in a posture that mimicked Eleanor’s defensive authority. The resemblance between aunt and nephew—or mother and son, as Ethan sometimes darkly suspected—was striking in the pale moonlight.
"You shouldn't have opened that, Ethan," Julian said quietly. "It only complicates things for you. Ignorance was a very comfortable coat to wear while you were in London closing your mergers."
"Embezzlement and corporate fraud aren't just complications, Julian. They’re federal crimes," Ethan said, keeping his voice dangerously low to avoid waking Eleanor down the hall. "Claire knew what you were doing. Is that why you were here that night? Did you come to silence her before she went to the board?"
Julian let out a short, humorless laugh that sounded more like a dry cough. "You really think I pushed my own sister down a flight of marble stairs? You give me too much credit for cold-blooded calculation, Ethan. I’m just a kid who made bad investments and needed a bridge loan from the family vault. Claire was a fanatic about the rules. She was going to tell Eleanor, and you know what Eleanor does to liabilities."
Ethan stopped dead, the implication hanging in the air like poison gas. "Eleanor?"
"My dear aunt protects her legacy above all else," Julian said, stepping slightly further into the room. "The foundation is her temple. If the board found out the primary benefactor’s funds were being funneled into my speculative accounts, the scandal would destroy her standing. Claire gave her an ultimatum: turn me in, or she would do it herself."
"And Eleanor chose her foundation over her daughter," Ethan whispered, the horror of the realization washing over him in a cold wave.
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"Eleanor chooses survival," Julian corrected, dropping his arms to his sides. "And right now, you and I need to figure out how to survive the morning, because the police detective handling this case isn't easily fooled by a simple slip-and-fall narrative."
Before Ethan could process Julian’s warning, a soft chime echoed from the hallway downstairs—the grandfather clock striking four. With it came the distinct sound of heavy footsteps on the front gravel drive, followed by the sharp, authoritative rapping of a police badge against the oak door.
