My husband had me locked in a windowless subterranean holding room beneath our Chicago estate, claiming I had suffered a severe psychotic break.
Julian burst into tears, his composure utterly gone. He slid from his chair, falling to his knees on the cold concrete floor.
“Please, Marcus!” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t do this! I’ll sign over everything! My mother’s inheritance, her accounts, every last penny she has! Just let me leave Chicago! Let me go!”
Evelyn shrieked, a primal sound of rage and betrayal. “You coward! You pathetic little worm! My son! You would sell your own mother for your miserable life?!”
Her face was contorted, her eyes blazing with an unholy fire. The realization of his absolute cowardice, his double-betrayal, hit her harder than any physical blow.
Maya stepped forward, standing over Julian. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes held a quiet triumph. She offered him a single pen. Beside it, digital transfer pads, linked to O’Leary’s secure network.
“You have 180 seconds, Julian,” Maya said, her voice steady. “Sign it all. Every deed. Every account. Every equity share. Unconditional waivers. Forfeit all claims.”
He looked up at her, tears streaming down his face, snot running from his nose. His hands shook as he took the pen.
“Wait!” Evelyn cried, struggling against O’Leary’s men who were now escorting her out. “Don’t sign! It’s a trap!”
But Julian, broken and desperate, didn’t even hear her. His hand scrawled his name, again and again, across the digital pads. In less than three minutes, he signed away an estimated $85,000,000 in real estate, bank accounts, and corporate equity.
He was completely destitute. Julian Montgomery, once heir to a vast fortune, now faced O’Leary’s non-lawful justice with nothing but the clothes on his back and a shattered name. He looked up at Maya, his eyes vacant, utterly destroyed.
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