Chapter 7 - The Son's Reckoning
The guest cottage of the Blackwood Estate was a magnificent three-story stone carriage house, surrounded by weeping willows and manicured boxwood hedges. In any other circumstance, it was a multi-million-dollar retreat of tranquility.
Today, it was a purgatory.
Julian Sterling sat on the stone porch steps, shivering uncontrollably despite the eighty-degree summer heat. His bespoke tuxedo jacket was gone, his silk shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, stained with sweat, tears, and dirt. Two oversized leather duffel bags sat on the flagstones beside him, half-zipped, with designer clothes spilling out like discarded rags.
In his hand, Julian clutched his titanium smartphone, furiously dialing numbers.
"Pick up... come on, Dave, pick up..." Julian whimpered into the receiver.
May you like
The line clicked. "Julian? Bro, what the hell is happening on Twitter? There’s a video of Vanessa getting hauled off in cuffs and your mom in the—"
"Dave! Listen to me!" Julian screamed into the phone, his voice ragged and broken. "I need you to wire me fifty grand. Right now! My accounts are frozen by some administrative error
