Chapter 10
The downtown corporate skyscraper of Arthur & Sons Global Trust loomed against the midnight sky like a monolith of dark glass and steel. The grand lobby was bathed in sterile white LED light, a stark contrast to the warm, intimate amber tones of the restaurant where the confrontation had begun hours earlier.
The heavy glass doors slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss, and Julian strode inside, flanked by Valeria and Arthur. Julian no longer looked like the anxious, defeated man in the gray suit jacket who had cowered behind his ex-wife; his posture was rigid, his blond hair neatly combed back, his eyes fixed entirely on the elevator banks at the far end of the marble foyer.
"All exterior access cards have been deactivated from the master console," Valeria stated as they walked across the pristine marble floor, her heels clicking rhythmically. She carried her light gray designer handbag—not the one Elena had dropped, but her own matching leather folio—with effortless authority. "Marcus is on the forty-second floor. He hasn't logged off his terminal."
Julian pressed the elevator call button, his finger lingering against the steel plate until the doors slid open instantly. There was no waiting; the system had been programmed to prioritize their access the moment their corporate credentials were authenticated at the security desk.
As the elevator ascended at breakneck speed, the digital floor numbers flickered upward in bright red digits: 28... 34... 40... 42.
"What are you going to say to him?" Arthur asked quietly, standing with his hands folded behind his back inside the spacious car.
"Nothing," Julian replied, his voice chillingly calm. "Letting him talk will incriminate him faster than anything I could accuse him of."
The elevator chimed softly, and the doors slid open to reveal the sprawling open-plan executive floor. Rows of empty mahogany desks stretched into the darkness, illuminated only by the ambient glow of computer monitors reflecting off the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that offered a panoramic view of the glittering city skyline.
At the far end of the floor, light poured from a single corner office.
Julian walked down the carpeted aisle, his footsteps muffled. Valeria and Arthur stayed a few paces back, giving him the space to confront the betrayal on his own terms.
Julian stopped outside the glass door of the corner office. Inside, Marcus Vance sat hunched over dual monitors, his fingers flying across his mechanical keyboard in a frantic rhythm. He wore a rumpled dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sweat glistening on his forehead as multiple terminal windows blinked rapidly, executing automated file-deletion scripts.
Marcus hit the enter key hard, muttering an oath under his breath as a progress bar crept slowly across his screen. He reached for his coffee mug, lifted it to his lips, and froze.
May you like
Julian stood framed in the doorway, his gray suit jacket unbuttoned, his expression an unreadable mask of absolute ice.
Marcus slowly lowered the mug, his eyes widening in sheer terror as he realized the office doors were locked from the outside.
