Daddy, Grandpa’s associate hit the desk with a baseball bat and took the red binder!
I ignored Helen’s threat of security and Kenneth’s smug face. My security card might have been deactivated, but I knew these hallways. I took the service elevator, a gritty metal box that smelled of cleaning supplies, and rode it up to the forty-second floor. I had to talk to Arthur.
The door slid open, revealing the polished executive hallway. No one was there yet. I moved swiftly towards Arthur’s suite. He was waiting for me, standing just outside the glass doors, his face grim.
“Julian,” he said, his voice low, but carrying an edge of steel. “You can’t be here. Your access is terminated.”
“I know,” I said, stopping a few feet from him. “But I need to understand. What are you doing? Why are you trying to frame me?”
Arthur ran a hand over his thinning hair, his eyes darting to the deserted hallway. “Frame you? Julian, I’m trying to protect you. And the firm.”
“By making me out to be insane?” I challenged. “By fabricating psychiatric reports? This isn’t protection, Dad, this is sabotage.”
He shook his head, a dismissive gesture. “You’re overwrought. You’ve been working too hard. Those financial records you found? They’re harmless offshore adjustments. Tax planning, nothing more.”
“Harmless?” I scoffed. “A $3.8 million transfer to an untracked offshore entity is not ‘harmless tax planning.’ It’s fraud, Dad.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t use that word, Julian. You don’t understand the bigger picture. You never have.”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Do you have any idea what it took to build this empire? The sacrifices? The sleepless nights? I built this for you. For your future, for Leo’s future.”
“An empire built on lies?” I asked, my voice cracking with frustration. “Is that the legacy you want to leave?”
“It’s not lies!” he hissed, his face reddening. “It’s survival. The market has been brutal. We had a rough first quarter. I had to make… strategic decisions to keep us afloat. To keep everyone’s jobs.”
He gestured vaguely at the opulent suite behind him. “You wouldn’t know. You’re always in your compliance cubicle, picking apart numbers without seeing the forest for the trees.”
“I see a $3.8 million hole that isn’t supposed to be there,” I countered, refusing to back down. “And now Kenneth is involved, and Leo was terrified. What about Leo, Dad? You put his name on trust documents?”
Arthur stiffened. “Clara told you?” He sighed, a dramatic, put-upon sound. “That’s another layer of protection, Julian. A shield against hostile takeovers, against overzealous regulators. It ensures the firm, and our family, remains secure.”
“He’s four, Dad! He’s not a legal shield!” I wanted to shake him, to make him see the absurdity, the danger. “This isn’t protection. It’s reckless, and it’s dragging him into something illicit.”
“You’re being ungrateful,” Arthur said, his voice suddenly cold and distant. “After everything I’ve done for you, for this family. To question my integrity, to undermine me in front of the entire firm? You’re destroying everything I built.”
“I’m trying to save it!” I pleaded, my voice hoarse. “From you. From Kenneth. From whatever scheme you’ve gotten tangled in.”
Arthur’s face hardened, completely closing off. “You’re sick, Julian. You’re hallucinating audit discrepancies because you’re stressed. Go home. See the doctor. Come back when you’ve found your senses.”
He took another step back, effectively putting distance between us. “My legacy is strong, Julian. Stronger than your paranoia. You’re cut from the grid, son. For your own good.”
He turned and walked back into his suite, the heavy glass doors sliding shut behind him. I stood alone in the empty hallway, completely shut out, my father’s words echoing in the silence. The firm, the legacy, the family name—he valued them over truth, over his own son’s reputation, over even Leo’s safety. He genuinely believed I was the problem, not the fraud.
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