Chapter 8
Julian stared at his younger brother, feeling not anger, but a profound, hollow exhaustion. The illusion of the wealthy, untouchable Vance family had finally shattered completely, reduced to a desperate plea from a cornered man sitting in a luxury hotel room.
“We aren't broke, Raymond,” Julian said evenly, stepping closer to the coffee table and picking up the diamond necklace. He held it in his palm, watching the heavy stones catch the dim light. “We have businesses, we have properties, and we have our integrity. At least, Clara and I do.”
Raymond scoffed, shaking his head. “You live in a bubble, Julian. You think your architectural firm is safe from the market crash? You think our father’s debts were fully paid off when he died? I’ve been keeping this family afloat from the shadows while you build glass towers and pretend the world is fair.”
“By destroying innocent lives?” Clara demanded, her voice rising in disbelief. She turned to Julian. “Call the police, Julian. Right now. I don't care about the family name anymore. Let the tabloids print whatever they want. I refuse to let him walk away from this.”
Raymond’s eyes widened slightly as he realized Clara was entirely serious. He stood up from the armchair, his casual demeanor completely gone. “Clara, think about what you’re doing. If the police get involved, the press connects the necklace to our estate. They dig into the accounts. They find out everything.”
“Let them find out,” Julian said softly. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed three digits without hesitation.
Before the call could connect, the door to suite 414 swung wide open. Arthur Pendelton stood in the doorway, flanked by two uniformed hotel security guards. Arthur’s face was pale, his administrative composure replaced by rigid determination.
“Mr. Vance,” Arthur said, addressing Julian first, before turning his gaze to Raymond. “I’ve already contacted the local precinct. Given that this involves corporate theft within hotel property and the deliberate framing of a staff member, the management cannot handle this internally.”
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Raymond stared at the security guards, his face draining of all color. He backed away toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. “You can't do this,” he whispered. “I’m a Vance.”
“You’re a criminal,” Julian said, pressing the phone to his ear as the line began to ring on the other end. He looked at his brother one last time, the bond of blood finally snapping under the weight of truth. “And it’s time you faced the foundation you built.”
