Chapter 2 - The Blank Canvas
Julian Vance was the golden boy of modern architecture and the man who stole my life.
The guard shoved me through a set of heavy mahogany doors into a soundproof VIP suite overlooking the main ballroom.
Julian stood by the window, swirling a glass of amber liquid and admiring his own reflection in the glass.
He turned to face me, wearing a tuxedo that probably cost more than I made in five years of hard labor.
He smiled perfectly, showing teeth that were just a little too white.
Julian mocked my cheap suit and asked if I really thought a ragged construction worker could crash his coronation.
I gripped my leather sketchpad tightly, feeling the familiar weight of my original, hand-drawn blueprints inside.
I told him I didn't come to crash his party, I came to take back my legacy.
Julian laughed out loud, a harsh, echoing sound that bounced off the expensive artwork on the walls.
He asked me what I possibly planned to show the board of directors out there.
I proudly stated that this sketchpad held the structural equations he could never figure out on his own.
I told him it proved he was a fraud who stole my work when I was in a coma after the scaffolding collapse.
I pulled the leather strap loose and flipped the book open to the centerfold where my master plans were drawn.
My heart completely stopped in my chest.
May you like
The pages were entirely blank.
Julian took a sip of his drink and casually mentioned that the thrift store clerk I bought my suit from was actually on his payroll.
