Chapter 7
The federal subpoena was a masterclass in political retaliation, designed to shift the blame entirely onto Julian’s shoulders. By sunset, news outlets across the country were running breaking updates: "VANCE INDUSTRIES INVESTIGATED FOR ILLEGAL POLITICAL CONTRIBUTIONS."
Julian sat alone in his penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park, staring blankly at the flashing television screens. The irony was suffocating; his own wife had framed him from inside a prison cell using her uncle's influence.
His phone buzzed violently on the mahogany coffee table, displaying an unknown caller ID with a restricted number. Julian picked up the receiver hesitantly, pressing it against his ear without speaking.
"Enjoying the view from the top, Julian?" Bianca’s cold, mocking voice echoed through the speaker. "You think destroying my company from a jail cell will save you, Bianca? Your uncle is going down with you," Julian warned quietly.
"My uncle is currently drafting a federal investigation into your personal tax returns, darling; you won't even have a penny left for bail," she laughed darkly. The line clicked dead before Julian could fire back another warning.
He knew she wasn't bluffing; Senator Sterling held immense sway over federal regulatory agencies and judicial appointments. Julian needed insurance, something tangible and explosive enough to shatter their political immunity once and for all.
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He remembered Margaret mentioning that his late father had kept a physical safety deposit box in downtown Manhattan. His father had always mistrusted Senator Sterling, suspecting him of embezzlement decades before Bianca entered the picture.
Julian grabbed his car keys and his heavy trench coat, striding out of the penthouse into the rainy New York night. The streets of Manhattan gleamed under the amber streetlights as he drove toward the secure underground vault.
