Chapter 5
The family home in the suburbs was dark when Julian pulled the sedan into the driveway at three-thirty in the morning. The tall oak trees cast long, skeletal shadows across the manicured lawn. Leaving Grandmother and the sleeping infant safely locked in the vehicle with the engine idling and the climate control running, Julian stepped out into the crisp night air. He unlocked the front door, his hand instinctively reaching for the wall switch.
The foyer was undisturbed, but as he moved down the hallway toward his private study, a subtle sound made him freeze. It was the faint, rhythmic scraping of metal against wood.
Julian crept forward silently, his sharp tuxedo shoes making no sound on the Oriental runner. He reached the partially open door of his study and peered inside.
A figure dressed in dark clothing stood hunched over his mahogany desk. The heavy-duty floor safe in the corner, usually concealed behind a framed painting, stood wide open. Files, folders, and shredded documents littered the Persian rug. The intruder was rapidly sweeping remaining papers into a canvas duffel bag.
Julian’s blood ran cold. He didn’t hesitate. He lunged into the room, grabbing the intruder by the shoulder and spinning them around with a surge of adrenaline.
The canvas bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. As the overhead light caught the intruder’s face, Julian’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t a hired criminal or a stranger. It was Marcus, Elena’s personal attorney and the man who had overseen their wedding financial contracts.
Marcus stumbled back against the mahogany desk, his eyes wide with surprise before his professional composure mask snapped back into place. He adjusted his tailored suit jacket, smoothing the lapels with deliberate slowness.
“Julian,” Marcus said smoothly, his voice entirely devoid of panic. “You’re away from your reception rather early. Not a good look for a newly minted husband.”
“Get out of my house,” Julian growled, his voice low, vibrating with a tightly coiled fury that threatened to shatter his restraint. He stepped closer, towering over the attorney. “What are you doing in my safe? What did you take?”
Marcus offered a thin, patronizing smile. He picked up his leather briefcase from the edge of the desk, keeping his movements calculated and calm. “I am merely retrieving property belonging to my client, Julian. Property that was legally assigned to her under the pre-nuptial agreements you so eagerly signed six months ago.”
“I never signed away my personal identity or fraudulent liabilities,” Julian retorted, his mind racing as he connected Marcus’s presence to the night’s disaster. “You forged those documents. Both of you.”
May you like
Marcus chuckled softly, a dry, insulting sound. He walked past Julian toward the door, pausing just at the threshold. “Prove it, Julian. Every signature is certified, notarized, and filed through proper channels. The wedding bill is just the beginning of your liabilities. Enjoy the first day of the rest of your life.”
With that, Marcus stepped out into the hallway and disappeared into the night, leaving Julian alone in the ransacked wreckage of his study.
