Chapter 17 - BEHIND REINFORCED GLASS
The visitor room at the metropolitan holding facility smelled of floor wax and stale coffee.
I sat on one side of the thick acrylic partition, wearing a pristine tailored charcoal suit.
Julian was brought in by two armed marshals, dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, his hands cuffed to his waist.
He slumped onto the metal stool, defeated, broken, and hollow.
"Why did you come here, Clara?" he croaked, staring at his chained wrists.
"To gloat?"
"I don't gloat over broken men, Julian," I replied evenly.
"I came to understand why."
"Why did you turn on the woman who gave you the keys to an empire?"
Julian let out a bitter, raspy laugh that echoed against the glass.
"You think you gave me that empire out of love, Clara?" he asked, glaring up at me with sudden venom.
"You gave it to me because your father made you promise to keep the Sterling name hidden after his death!"
"My father wanted to protect me from the predators of this industry," I answered.
"Your father wasn't protecting you, Clara—he was running from them!" Julian snarled, leaning forward against the glass.
"What did you just say?" my voice dropped into an icy whisper.
"His car accident five years ago on the winding Hudson cliff road?" Julian sneered.
"Everyone called it brake failure during an unexpected thunderstorm."
"It was brake failure," I said, feeling a cold knot form in the pit of my stomach.
"No, it wasn't, Clara," Julian whispered, a sinister grin spreading across his bruised face.
"Your father’s car was tampered with in his own private garage."
"And I wasn't the one who ordered it, Clara."
"Someone inside your inner circle—someone you trust with every ledger in your empire—paid the mechanic."
"You're lying to save your skin," I said, refusing to let my hands shake.
"Check the offshore wire transfers from October 14th, five years ago," Julian whispered.
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"Look at who authorized the payout, my dear architect."
"Your father didn't die by accident, Clara. He was murdered."
