The downtown steakhouse was Julian’s choice, a place of hushed opulence with dark wood and leather booths. He wanted to meet under the pretense of “discussing the firm’s concerns.” I went because I needed to see his face, to find some crack in the facade.
He sat across from me, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, a confident, almost serene smile on his lips. He looked like the golden boy, the future of Bennett & Ruiz. A rising corporate star.
“Father,” Julian said, raising a glass of single malt. “It’s good to see you, even under these… difficult circumstances.”
His casual tone grated. My hand, hidden beneath the table, clenched into a fist. The forensic DNA report burned in my mind, a constant, sickening loop.
“Difficult circumstances are an understatement, Julian,” I replied, my voice carefully neutral. “Twenty-two million dollars. Offshore accounts. Forged signatures.”
His smile didn’t waver. He took a slow sip of his drink. “Financial irregularities. The firm has its procedures. You know that. Elena is quite concerned about the optics.”
“Optics?” I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a whisper. “You framed me. You siphoned syndicate money. You knew about the merger files, the elevator chime. You sent that audio.”
Julian placed his glass down with a soft clink. He finally met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw it—the cold, calculating glint in his eyes that I had always dismissed as ambition.
“Yes, Father,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet carrying an astonishing calm. “I sent the audio. And I’m quite aware of the twenty-two million. It’s almost all recovered now, thanks to your little… diversion.”
My stomach churned. “Diversion? You think this is a game?”
He chuckled softly. “It’s a chess match, Father. And you’ve been rather predictable.”
“What about Sarah?” I asked, pushing the words out, my voice thick with emotion. “What about your mother?”
The smile vanished. His face became a mask of pure, chilling indifference. “Ah, Mother. Always so principled. Always digging where she shouldn’t.”
He picked up a breadstick, snapping it in half with a crisp sound. “She found the accounts. She saw the transfers. She threatened to go to Elena, to the ethics committee.”
My blood ran cold. “You ran her down because of money?”
Julian shrugged, a casual, dismissive gesture that made my skin crawl. “It was an accident. A momentary lapse of judgment. She was… in the wrong place at the wrong time. Panicked, I suppose. The car was a rental. Untraceable.”
He dipped the breadstick into olive oil, his movements utterly devoid of remorse. He was eating. He was calmly discussing the murder of his own mother.
“You left her for dead,” I choked out.
“Collateral damage, Father. Unfortunate, but necessary. For the larger plan.” He looked at me, a cruel, triumphant glint in his eyes. “And now, who will they believe? A grieving, disgraced father, facing disbarment for twenty-two million in stolen funds? Or a rising corporate star, dedicated to protecting the firm’s reputation?”
He had dissected my life, picked apart my credibility, and planned his narrative with surgical precision.
“You’re a sociopath,” I said, the words tasting like ash.
Julian smiled again, a thin, humourless curve of his lips. “Practical, Father. I learned from the best. You always taught me to eliminate obstacles.”
He checked his watch. “Our time is almost up. I’ve been quite generous with these explanations. Consider it a final courtesy.”
The mask had not just been drawn back; it had been utterly discarded. The son I thought I knew was a stranger, a monster wearing a familiar face. He hadn’t just broken my trust; he had shattered my entire perception of reality.
As he stood to leave, a thought flashed in his eyes, quick as a viper. “Oh, and Father? Don’t even think about going to the police. They’ll just see a desperate man trying to avoid embezzlement charges. Moretti’s people, on the other hand… they’re already looking for the thief.”
He tossed his napkin onto the table, a final, dismissive gesture. “No court will ever believe you.” The words hung in the air, a chilling prophecy. He walked out, leaving me alone in the opulent silence, surrounded by the ghosts of what I thought my life was.
+ There are no comments
Add yours