Chapter 12
Julian stepped into the penthouse office, his long coat swishing against his boots like a specter of vengeance.
"You look remarkably well for a dead man, Father," Julian remarked, his voice icy and devoid of emotion.
Arthur chuckled quietly, taking a slow sip of his espresso before setting the delicate porcelain cup down.
"Dying was the best business decision I ever made, Julian," Arthur boasted calmly.
"It cleared seventy million dollars in corporate debt and allowed me to rebuild my portfolio in complete privacy."
"At the expense of your family," Julian countered, stepping closer to the desk.
"You used Eleanor to terrorize Clara, you tried to steal my late sister's trust, and you sent a hitman to my home."
Arthur's smile faded slightly, replaced by the cold, calculating glare that had made him feared on Wall Street.
"Clara was a liability, Julian," Arthur stated callously, leaning back in his leather executive chair.
"She knew too much about the estate structure, and that bastard child of hers threatened my inheritance lines."
"He is my nephew!" Julian shouted, slamming his hand down onto the glass desk with thunderous force.
The glass cracked slightly under the impact, echoing through the silent, luxurious room.
Arthur didn't flinch; instead, he casually reached into his desk drawer and brought out a small gold bell.
May you like
"You always were too sentimental, Julian," Arthur observed with a cold, dismissive sneer.
"Just like your pathetic mother."
