Chapter 2: The Architecture of an Empire
Arthur turned around, his chest puffing out with patriarchal arrogance. "Eleanor, you're late. And your daughter is making a scene. I've corrected the seating arrangement. Sit down so we can begin the toast."
Eleanor didn't move. She stood directly in the center of the dining room, bathed in the flashing green and red lights of the massive Douglas fir tree in the corner. "You kicked a child out of her seat, Arthur. On Christmas Eve. In the house my late husband built."
"Richard built this with my capital!" Arthur shouted, his face flushing a dangerous shade of purple. "And I will not let a nameless orphan inherit what belongs to my blood! Julian is the rightful heir to the Sterling Energy trust. The papers are being signed tomorrow morning. It’s over, Eleanor. You and your adopted stray can take a comfortable settlement and leave Aspen."
Julian leaned back, crossing his legs. "It’s just business, Aunt Eleanor. Blood talks. Orphans walk."
Eleanor looked at Julian, a slow, terrifyingly calm smile spreading across her lips. It was the smile of a predator that had spent two years digging a pit, watching its prey willingly walk right into the center of it.
"Blood does talk, Julian," Eleanor said softly, walking slowly toward the table. She laid the black leather folder directly on the white linen tablecloth, right next to the pool of spilled wine. "The problem is, you've been listening to a lie."
Arthur laughed, a dry, coughing sound. "What is this? Another one of your legal injunctions? I control the board, Eleanor. I control the banks. You have nothing."
"I have the truth, Arthur. And the truth is a funny thing," Eleanor whispered, leaning over the table, her eyes locking onto her father-in-law. "You spent the last two years trying to push me and Lily out, thinking you were safeguarding your precious legacy. You stripped my husband's name from the charity funds. You cut our stipends. You thought you were the king on the chessboard."
She tapped the leather folder with a manicured fingernail.
"But while you were busy playing king, I bought the board. I bought the pieces. And tonight, I’m taking the crown."
Arthur’s smile faltered slightly. There was something in Eleanor’s absolute lack of fear that sent a sudden, unwelcome chill down his spine. He looked at Beatrice, Julian’s mother, who had just entered the room, looking uncharacteristically pale.
May you like
"What's going on here?" Beatrice stammered, clutching her Chanel handbag tightly against her chest.
"Tonight," Eleanor announced, her voice echoing with an unstoppable, cold finality, "we are going to find out who really belongs at this table."
