Chapter 6 - Standing beneath a framed American flag in a grand mansion a wealthy executive confronts the arrogant socialite who plotted his permanent physical and financial ruin.
Genevieve stepped between Marcus and the wheelchair, trying to project an air of untouchable aristocracy despite her trembling hands.
"Julian, you are letting a mentally unstable orphan manipulate your judgment during a multi-billion-dollar merger negotiation!" Genevieve shrieked defensively.
"Marcus has dedicated his entire career to keeping your shipping lines afloat while you sat paralyzed in that chair!" she shouted angrily.
Julian rolled his black wheelchair forward two inches, the rubber tires gliding silently across the immaculate, polished hardwood and marble floor.
He positioned himself directly beneath the framed US flag on its golden stand, anchoring his authority in the symbols of national justice.
"For five years, I believed my paralysis was an act of God, an unavoidable tragedy dealt by fate on a rainy highway," Julian said.
"Now, an innocent six-year-old girl kneeling with a silver basin has exposed a conspiracy woven by my own blood and allies," he continued.
Marcus wiped sweat from his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief, looking frantically toward the exit doors guarded by private security.
"You can't prove anything, Julian! Without medical proof, your accusations are nothing more than the bitter ramblings of a cripple!" Marcus snapped.
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The moment the offensive word left Marcus's mouth, the room erupted into a deafening, collective gasp from the assembled corporate elites.
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