Chapter 13 - The Return of the Patriarch
The heavy oak doors of the mansion echoed with a sharp, commanding knock from the main foyer—not the polite rapping of a visitor, but the authoritative pounding of someone who owned the building down to its foundation. Julian stood frozen by the library window for a second before turning sharply toward the door.
"Stay here, Clara," Julian commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "If anyone else comes through that door, hide in the alcove."
"Mr. Julian, don't go out there alone," Clara pleaded, her hands wringing the fabric of her coat. "Your uncle... he looked like he wanted to kill you."
"He won't have to," Julian replied grimly, reaching into his pocket to ensure the brass key and Margaret's letter were secure. "Not if I find out what's inside this box first."
Leaving Clara behind in the dim library, Julian strode down the wood-paneled hallway toward the grand staircase. Below, in the foyer, the heavy front doors swung open. Victor Vance stepped across the threshold, flanked by two burly men in identical charcoal suits who looked less like corporate assistants and more like private security enforcers.
"Well, well, well," Victor’s voice echoed smoothly off the high ceilings, rich and dripping with condescension. "Look at the prodigal nephew, trying to play lord of the manor while the ship sinks around him."
Julian descended the grand staircase slowly, keeping his posture rigid and his hands visible. "You were supposed to be in Zurich, Uncle Victor. Why are you here?"
Victor chuckled, pulling off his leather gloves and tossing them onto a nearby mahogany side table. "Zurich is terribly boring this time of year, Julian. Besides, when my security systems alerted me that the police were raiding the estate, I figured it was time for the senior partner to step in and clean up the absolute mess your father left behind."
"My father didn't leave a mess," Julian said, reaching the bottom of the stairs and stopping just a few feet from his uncle. "He left a crime scene. And you helped him build it."
Victor’s smile didn't reach his eyes. The easygoing warmth vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling, predatory coldness. He stepped closer, towering over Julian despite his older age.
"You know nothing about this family, boy," Victor whispered fiercely. "Your father, your grandfather, and I built this empire on blood, sweat, and absolute necessity. Thomas was weak; he threatened to tear it all down because of a guilty conscience. So we removed him. And if you keep digging into that east wing library, you'll meet the exact same fate."
The confession hung in the air, absolute and undeniable. Julian felt a surge of rage so hot it burned in his throat, but he forced himself to stay completely still.
"The police have the audio recordings, Victor," Julian replied, his voice dangerously calm. "They have Margaret's ledger. Your time is up."
Victor laughed—a short, dry sound of pure amusement. "The police? Julian, the police left ten minutes ago. Detective Vance was reassigned to a different precinct before he even reached the gates. Didn't you hear your phone buzzing?"
May you like
Julian’s pocket vibrated violently, shattering the silence between them.
---
