Chapter 8 - THE CONFRONTATION
"Let her go, Marcus!" Julian roared, taking a step forward.
The blade pressed painfully against my collarbone. I could hear Marcus’s ragged breathing in my ear. He was cornered, and cornered animals were the most dangerous.
"You always got everything, Julian!" Marcus spat, ignoring him. "The company. Father's approval. The perfect life! I had to clean up your messes. I got rid of her to protect the family name!"
"You did it to steal my inheritance!" Julian countered, keeping his eyes locked on mine, silently telling me to hold on. "Father’s will stipulated that if I had an heir, my shares doubled. You chased Mia away so you could maintain your controlling interest."
Marcus laughed, a hysterical sound. "So what if I did? You're weak, Julian. You're soft."
"I'm not weak," Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm. "And you're out of time."
Julian gave a tiny, imperceptible nod. I knew what to do.
I didn't scream. I drove my stiletto heel backward, crushing it down onto Marcus's instep with all my weight.
Marcus howled in pain, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second. I threw my elbow backward into his ribs and wrenched myself free.
Julian crossed the room in a blur. He tackled Marcus to the ground, slamming his fist into his brother’s jaw with a sickening crack. Marcus went limp.
The security guards rushed in, dragging Marcus up and slapping zip-ties onto his wrists.
I stood against the wall, shaking violently, clutching my throat where a thin line of blood welled from a shallow scratch.
Julian was at my side in an instant. His hands were gentle as he tilted my chin up, inspecting the cut. "Are you okay? Mia, look at me. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I choked out, tears of adrenaline finally falling. "We got him, Julian. We got him."
Just then, the door opened again. A sharply dressed older man walked in—Arthur Vance’s old lawyer, Thomas, the man whose notary stamp was on my fake termination letter.
Thomas looked at the scene: Marcus in zip-ties, Julian holding me.
"It seems," Thomas said dryly, adjusting his glasses, "that the truth has finally come to light."
Julian turned on him furiously. "You stamped that letter, Thomas! You helped him!"
"I stamped a blank sheet of paper for your father twelve years ago," Thomas corrected calmly. "Marcus stole it. I have suspected for years, but I had no proof until tonight." Thomas looked at me, a soft sadness in his eyes. "Your father, Julian, regretted what happened. On his deathbed, he altered the trust. If Mia and the child were ever found... the entire Vance estate reverts to them."
May you like
Marcus, bleeding from the mouth, screamed in rage as the guards dragged him out.
Julian looked at me, the weight of the empire suddenly meaningless compared to the woman standing in front of him. "It's over," he whispered.
