Chapter 2
The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind the three men in black suits, sealing off any immediate escape route for Julian. Marcus advanced down the corridor like a predator closing in on wounded prey, his dark leather shoes clicking sharply against the marble. His eyes never left Julian, whose face had gone from flushed anger to a sickly, pale grey.
"I said, step away from her," Marcus repeated, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a weight that demanded absolute obedience.
Julian instinctively took two steps backward, his heels catching the edge of the stair runner. He threw a frantic glance toward Clara, silently pleading for her to intervene, but Clara was pressed so hard against the mahogany side table that she seemed to be melting into the woodwork. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the gold satin dress rustling nervously with every tremor of her chest.
Elena remained on the floor, her back braced against the carved white banister. She kept one hand cradled over her abdomen, shielding her unborn child not just from Julian, but from the sudden, volatile energy filling the room. Her cheek was already swelling, a dark plum bruise blooming across her high cheekbone against her pale skin.
"Marcus, don't," Elena managed to say, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at her oldest brother. "Don't do this here. Not in the house."
"Quiet, El," Marcus commanded gently, without breaking his lethal stare at Julian. He signaled with a flick of his wrist, and the two security men flanking him immediately fanned out, blocking the grand staircase and the side gallery. They were cut off.
Julian swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. He tried to straighten his white button-down shirt, pulling nervously at the cuffs. "You’ve got this all wrong, Marcus. It’s a misunderstanding. Elena and I were just... having a private conversation about the trust fund distribution."
"A conversation that involved your hand across her face?" Marcus sneered, closing the final distance between them. He stopped mere inches from Julian, towering over him by several inches. "My sister is eight months pregnant with your child, and you laid your hands on her. In our family home."
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Julian shrank back, his shoulder blades pressing hard against the stair post. "She was hiding documents, Marcus! Financial papers that prove she’s been siphoning company assets into a private account behind my back!"
Elena let out a sharp, incredulous breath from the floor. "That is a complete lie, Julian, and you know it."
