Chapter 4 - The Public Wake
Julian snatched the tablet from Finch's shaking hands.
"What are you panicking about, Harold?" Julian snapped, his voice sharp and dismissive.
"Did the financial press misquote my statement about mother's passing?"
"Look at the screen, Julian!" Finch whispered harshly.
I watched Julian's eyes dart across the tablet display.
The color drained from his skin with terrifying speed, leaving him looking like an unpainted corpse under the chandelier light.
The financial news ticker on Bloomberg was already flashing in bright red digital text:
BREAKING: SEC and Federal Trade Commission launch emergency inquiry into Vance Industries following anonymous submission of offshore dummy corporations.
Trading of Vance Industries stock halted pending full forensic audit.
Julian's breath hitched in his throat.
"This is impossible," Julian muttered, his fingers scrolling frantically through the financial documents.
"Those accounts were completely shielded behind three layers of Panamanian holding trusts."
"Only two people had the operational passwords to those files."
He slowly raised his head, his eyes fixing on me with murderous rage.
"You," he snarled, stepping into my personal space.
"You broke into my mother's private desk."
"Your mother didn't need me to break into anything, Julian," I replied in a voice as calm as still water.
"She kept duplicate paper records of every single dollar you siphoned out of the corporate pension fund to pay for Chloe's luxury penthouses."
Chloe took a step back, her hand flying up to cover the emerald pendant at her throat.
"Julian, what is she talking about?" Chloe demanded, her arrogant smirk beginning to fracture.
"You told me that money was from your private venture capital returns."
"You told me those condos were registered under corporate development assets!"
"Shut your mouth, Chloe!" Julian barked, turning on her with a sudden, vicious ferocity that made her flinch.
The chapel was rapidly filling with high-society mourners, board members, and prominent Wall Street financiers.
Arthur Vance’s old business associates—men who controlled billions of dollars in New York capital—were stepping through the heavy brass doors.
Among them was Senator Thomas Sterling, the most influential political figure on the eastern seaboard and Eleanor's oldest personal confidant.
Julian noticed the senator entering and immediately plastered a look of devastating grief across his handsome features.
"Clara, we will deal with your insanity in private," Julian hissed between clenched teeth.
"If you make a scene in front of Senator Sterling and the board, I swear to God you will leave this marriage without a penny to your name."
He turned on his heel, offering a sorrowful, humble wave toward the senator.
"Senator Sterling, thank you for coming," Julian called out, his voice thick with rehearsed emotion as he approached the front pew.
"My mother loved your family dearly."
"Today is a devastating day for our entire legacy."
Senator Sterling stopped in the center aisle, leaning heavily on his polished ebony cane.
He did not extend his hand to Julian.
He looked past Julian’s outstretched fingers, his cold gray eyes locking directly onto me.
The silence that fell over the grand chapel was heavy, suffocating, and absolute.
"I did not come here to speak with you, Julian," Senator Sterling said, his deep, resonant voice echoing off the vaulted stone arches.
Julian froze, his hand hanging awkwardly in the empty space between them.
"Excuse me, Senator?" Julian stammered, attempting an awkward, wounded chuckle.
"I am her only son."
"I am the chairman of this company."
Senator Sterling took two slow steps forward, planting his cane firmly against the marble floor.
May you like
"You were her son, Julian," the old man said with chilling gravity.
"Until Eleanor executed an emergency revocation of filial succession in my private chambers last Tuesday."
