Chapter 12 - the spider's parlor
The grand dining room at the Drake Hotel had been entirely reserved for private use. Polished crystal chandeliers cast sparkling reflections across empty linen-draped tables, while armed men in tailored suits stood silently along the velvet-draped walls. At the center of the room sat Julian Sterling, cutting into an expensive dry-aged steak with calm, terrifying precision. He wore a bespoke navy suit, a gold signet ring on his pinky, exuding the calm arrogance of a man who believed the world owed him everything.
The heavy double doors swung open. Roman Vance stepped into the hall, his dark coat sweeping behind him. But he was not alone. Walking beside him, clad in an exquisite emerald-green silk gown with her chin held high and shoulders perfectly back, was Clara Bennett-Vance. Her presence was regal, commanding the attention of every security guard in the room.
Julian froze mid-bite, his silver fork hovering in the air. A slow, mocking grin broke across his handsome face as he set the utensils down on the fine china. "Roman, Roman. I specifically instructed you to leave your prize at home. Bringing your lovely wife into the lion’s den seems extraordinarily reckless, even for a barbarian like you."
Roman pulled out a chair for Clara with seamless chivalry before sitting beside her. He leaned back, resting his arms on the mahogany armrests, his dark eyes locking onto Julian with predatory calm. "My wife doesn't wait at home, Julian. She runs the empire with me. And quite frankly, you aren't a lion. You’re a parasite feeding on dead men's grudges."
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Julian’s grin tightened into a vicious smirk. He snapped his fingers, and a heavy leather folder was placed in front of Roman by a lieutenant. "Open it. Inside is the regulatory takeover of every commercial port asset your logistics firm operates along the Great Lakes. I bought the regional inspectors, the union chiefs, and the state comptroller. By tomorrow morning, Roman, your supply lines will be seized by federal marshals. You will be bankrupt before noon, and Clara will be destitute."
Clara smiled—a cool, mocking sound that echoed through the quiet room. Julian's eyes snapped toward her, his arrogance momentarily fractured by her utter lack of fear. "Is that what you think is going to happen, Julian?" she asked softly.
