He needs the firm’s safety net more than you do, Julian, my father declared across the formal dinner table, cutting my monthly commission allocation by $14,500 to pay my ex-partner Marcus’s luxur...
The smell of rich mahogany and old money usually comforted me in my father’s spacious office. Today, it felt stifling. David sat behind his grand desk, his hands clasped tightly, knuckles white. He looked smaller than usual, his shoulders slumped.
“This injunction, Dad, it’s a direct attack,” I began, dropping the legal papers onto his desk. “Marcus is trying to muzzle me.”
David flinched, his eyes darting to the documents. He picked them up, his gaze scanning the first page before he quickly set them back down.
“Julian, please,” he said, his voice strained. “We need to handle this delicately.”
“Delicately?” I scoffed. “He’s defrauding the firm, Dad! And you knew about it, didn’t you? The off-book property transactions, the fake appraisals?”
David’s face crumpled. He pushed himself back from the desk, standing up to stare out the window at the bustling Boston skyline.
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far,” he murmured, his back still to me. “Marcus… he promised.”
“Promised what?” I demanded, a knot forming in my stomach. The “misunderstanding” about Marcus’s behavior was starting to unravel into something far uglier.
He turned, his eyes pleading. “He promised to secure the municipal permits for the port development project. The one that’s been stalled for two years, Julian. The one that could double the firm’s assets.”
My jaw dropped. “You let him use firm properties as collateral for illicit loans, backed by forged documents, because he dangled a permit in front of you?”
David wrung his hands. “It was a calculated risk! We needed that permit. Brooks Asset Management needs new revenue streams. Marcus said he had connections, that this was the only way to grease the wheels.”
“Grease the wheels with fraud?” I shouted, unable to keep my voice down. “Dad, this isn’t just ‘greasing the wheels.’ This is criminal.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “He assured me the loans would be repaid, that the permit would be secured, that no one would ever know. It was a temporary measure.”
He stepped around his desk, moving towards me. “Julian, please. For the family name. For your grandfather. Drop this. We can find another way to cover Marcus’s debts. We can’t afford a scandal.”
He reached out, trying to place a hand on my arm. I recoiled.
The man who had always preached integrity and cautious investment had not only turned a blind eye to Marcus’s fraud but had actively enabled it for a corporate deal. The betrayal was like a physical blow.
“You knew,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “And you let it happen.”
He hung his head, unable to meet my gaze. “I was trying to protect us, Julian. All of us.”
But he hadn’t protected anyone. He had just made things infinitely worse.
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