Chapter 8 - The Dynasty Implodes
Julian slowly raised his head. When his eyes met his mother’s in the water, Eleanor stopped climbing. She froze, gripping the edge of the pool, her knuckles white, her face draining of whatever color was left.
She saw no son looking back at her. She saw the angel of death.
"Lucas," Julian’s voice was unnervingly calm. It was the voice of a general ordering an execution.
"I'm here," Lucas answered, his own fists clenched until his knuckles threatened to tear through the skin.
"Take Lily inside to my private suite. Call Dr. Henderson immediately. Have him bring a forensic pediatric unit. Every mark. Every bruise. Document everything."
"On it," Lucas said. He gently took Lily from Julian’s arms. The little girl buried her face into her uncle’s neck, exhausted, safe at last, as Lucas carried her swiftly through the double doors, flanked by two personal bodyguards.
Once Lily was out of sight, Julian reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out his phone. He dialed a direct line, his eyes never leaving the dripping woman in the pool.
"This is Julian Vance," he spoke into the phone, his voice echoing off the limestone arches. "Activate the board. Call an emergency shareholder meeting for midnight. Liquidate the Vance Trust. Strip Eleanor Vance of her chairmanship, her voting shares, and her power of attorney across all ninety subsidiaries."
"Julian, you can't do this!" Eleanor screamed, her voice cracking into a ragged sob. "That trust is mine! The Vance name is mine! You are nothing without this empire!"
"I built this empire, Mother," Julian said, his eyes cold as black ice. "You just spent its blood money. And as of tonight, you are destitute."
He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He then turned his gaze toward the massive iron gates at the front of the estate.
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In the distance, the wailing scream of police sirens began to rise up the winding canyon road, cutting through the night air like a buzzsaw.
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