Chapter 7 - The Last Resort
Julian’s weeping stopped abruptly. The pathetic, groveling posture vanished, replaced by the sudden, ugly resurgence of his raw, cornered arrogance. He stood up slowly, wiping the tears from his face with the dirty sleeve of his jacket, his eyes burning with a desperate, dark fury.
"You think you've won, don't you?" he hissed, his voice dropping into a raspy growl. "You think you can just erase me from the history of this city? My grandfather built the political connections that gave your father his first government contracts! Without the Vance name, you're just a cold-hearted corporate bitch who used a child to pull off a coup!"
"The Carlyle family paid off your grandfather's debts thirty years ago, Julian," I said, completely unbothered by his sudden outburst. "You were living on borrowed credit and borrowed prestige your entire life."
"I'll fight you in every court in the country!" he threatened, taking a aggressive step toward my desk. "I'll go to the media! I'll tell them you fabricated the financial records to frame me! I'll make sure Victoria grows up knowing her mother ruined her father!"
"You won't be going to the media, Julian," I replied, pressing a button on my desk intercom. "Because the district attorney has just finalized your indictment."
The double doors of my office swung open. Two detectives from the New York Police Department, accompanied by an assistant district attorney, walked into the room.
"Julian Vance," the lead detective announced, pulling out a pair of steel handcuffs. "You are under arrest for grand larceny, corporate tax evasion, and conspiracy to commit wire fraud. You have the right to remain silent."
Julian spun around, his eyes wide with shock. "What?! Clare, what did you do?!"
"I didn't do anything, Julian," I said, sitting back down and opening a blue folder on my desk. "I simply turned over the full financial audit of Vance Holdings to the state prosecutor. You stole forty-five million dollars. That carries a mandatory minimum sentence of fifteen years in state prison."
As the detectives grabbed his arms and clicked the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists, Julian began to scream wildly, thrashing against their grip.
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"Clare! You can't do this to me! I'm a Vance! You hear me?! I'm a Vance!"
"Not anymore," I whispered without looking up as they dragged him out into the hallway, his desperate screams echoing down the marble corridor until the elevator doors closed, plunging the floor back into beautiful, pristine silence.
