Chapter 6 - The Midnight Arrival
At 3:45 a.m., the sound of tires crunching over wet gravel signaled Julian’s frantic arrival at our Greenwich driveway.
The front door opened with a sharp click, followed by the heavy, hurried footsteps of my husband rushing up the marble staircase.
He tried the handle of my office door, rattling it violently when he realized the deadbolt was firmly engaged from the inside.
“Sarah!” Julian shouted, his voice hoarse, sweaty, and trembling with an edge of raw, uncontained panic.
“Open this door right now! My father is threatening to disinherit me! He’s going to call the federal authorities on you!”
I stood up slowly from my desk, walking toward the door with my hands tucked neatly into the pockets of my white trousers.
I unlocked the deadbolt with a quiet click, swinging the heavy oak door open to reveal my husband standing in the dim hallway light.
Julian looked pathetic; his expensive silk tie was loosened, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot from alcohol and fear.
He held a glass of water in his hand, his fingers shaking so badly that drops of water spilled onto his tailored wool jacket.
“What were you talking about on the phone, Sarah?” Julian demanded, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.
“What safe? What documents? What did you take from my father’s house tonight?!”
I stepped back, resting my hip against the edge of my mahogany desk, looking at him with absolute, unyielding emotional detachment.
May you like
“I took the 2011 Cleveland safety logs, Julian,” I said flatly. “And the customs manifests for the Valparaiso shipments.”
Julian’s glass slipped from his fingers, crashing onto the hardwood floor and shattering into dozens of sharp, sparkling fragments.
