Chapter 2 - The Mansion's Shadow
The ride to the Upper East Side penthouse was suffocatingly silent.
Eleanor kept her eyes locked on Leo through the rearview mirror of the town car.
Julian sat rigidly by the window, stealing terrified glances at his mirror image.
Leo simply watched the glittering lights of Manhattan, a city that had stepped on him for fifteen years, now offering him a leather seat.
The private elevator doors opened into a sprawling living room of marble and glass.
"Wait here in the foyer," Eleanor whispered, her voice trembling.
"I need to call your father."
Julian grabbed his mother's arm.
"Dad doesn't have anything to do with this, does he?"
Before Eleanor could answer, the heavy oak doors of the home office swung open.
Arthur, a towering man in a tailored suit, stepped out with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
He looked at Eleanor's pale face, then at Julian, and finally, his eyes landed on the dirty, barefoot boy standing on his Persian rug.
The whiskey glass slipped from Arthur's hand and shattered against the marble floor.
"Hello, Father," Leo said softly.
Arthur's face drained of all color, his jaw clenching so hard it looked like it might break.
"Eleanor, get the guards up here right now."
"Arthur, he has your locket, and he has your family ring!" Eleanor screamed, stepping in front of the boy.
"He's our son!"
Arthur lunged forward, grabbing Eleanor by the shoulders.
"That thing is not our son."
Julian stepped between his parents, pushing his father back with surprising force.
"Look at his face, Dad!"
Arthur glared at the homeless boy with pure, unfiltered hatred.
"I know exactly whose face that is."
He turned to his wife, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.
"I told you Marcus Vance would try to destroy us, and you just brought his ultimate weapon into our home."
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Leo smiled, but it was a cold, calculated smirk that didn't belong on a teenager's face.
"Marcus said you'd react exactly like this," Leo whispered, pulling a small silver detonator from his hoodie pocket.
