Chapter 9: The Coup De Grâce
"You... you found her," Arthur whispered, the words escaping his lips like dry leaves in the wind. All pretense of denial vanished, replaced by a desperate, cornered panic. "That’s impossible. The cleaner swore the girl had nothing left of value when she was dropped off."
The audio system integrated into the boardroom table—managed remotely by Marcus—suddenly chimed, broadcasting Arthur’s whispered confession to every single microphone and speaker in the room.
Every executive around the table recoiled in horror. The facade of the benevolent patriarch shattered completely in front of the company's highest stakeholders.
"My uncle, ladies and gentlemen," Julian announced, straightening up and addressing the paralyzed board with chilling formality. "A thief, an embezzler, and a coward who preyed on an innocent child to protect his stolen throne."
Robert Vance stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "As the senior independent director of Vance Global Holdings, I move for an immediate suspension of Arthur Vance’s voting rights, pending a full criminal investigation by federal authorities."
"Seconded," three board members shouted simultaneously.
Arthur looked around the table, his eyes wide with disbelief as the people who had bowed to him for decades actively avoided his gaze. He lunged forward, his hands clawing toward the table. "You can't do this! I made this company! I made you, Julian!"
"You made a monster," Julian replied coldly. "And now, the bill is due."
Within seconds, two federal marshals—whom Marcus had discreetly stationed outside the executive suite in anticipation of the confession—pushed past the glass doors, their dark suits and badges flashing under the pristine boardroom lights.
"Arthur Vance," the lead marshal stated, stepping forward with handcuffs ready. "You are under arrest for corporate embezzlement, fraud, and suspected conspiracy. Anything you say can and will be used against you."
As the cold steel cuffs snapped around Arthur’s wrists, the fallen patriarch glared at Julian with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You think you’ve won, Julian? The Sterling enemies are still out there. They know who you are now. Opening this door won't just destroy me—it will get you both killed."
May you like
Julian didn't flinch as his uncle was dragged out of the boardroom in disgrace. He simply picked up the silver hairpin from the table, sliding it back into his pocket where it belonged.
"Let them come," Julian muttered to the empty doorway. "I'm ready."
