Chapter 6 - The Visitor from the PastJulian Vance looked like a shadow of his former self.
When Marcus escorted him into my office, the once-impeccable corporate executive looked hollowed out. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his tie was slightly askew, and his hands trembled as he clutched a worn leather briefcase to his chest.
He didn't walk toward the desk with the swagger he used to have when trailing behind Ethan. Instead, he stopped ten paces away, keeping his head bowed slightly in an involuntary gesture of submission.
"Mrs... Mrs. Bennett," Julian stammered, swallowing hard. "Thank you for seeing me. I know I have no right to be here after everything—"
"Save the preamble, Julian," I interrupted, resting my hands neatly on the mahogany surface of my desk. "You're here because your name appears on several secondary authorization forms tied to Ethan's offshore accounts, and you're terrified the federal prosecutor is going to make an example of you."
Julian blanched, his knees visibly wobbling. He quickly set his briefcase on the coffee table and clicked the latches open, pulling out a thick stack of certified bank statements and internal audit logs.
"I have the proof, Mrs. Bennett—everything!" Julian practically begged, rushing forward to place the documents on my desk. "Ethan was skimming capital from the encryption subsidiary for over a year! He told me it was standard corporate restructuring, but I swear to you, I didn't know he was hiding it from the family trust! I was just following orders!"
I looked down at the papers, my expression entirely unreadable. I didn't touch them. I didn't need to.
"Julian," I said softly, causing him to freeze mid-sentence. "Do you remember the day of the wedding anniversary gala two years ago? The one where Ethan stood on stage and publicly thanked you for being his most loyal soldier?"
Julian blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. "I... yes. I remember."
"Do you remember what Ethan said to you privately in the green room afterward, when he thought no one else was listening?"
Julian’s breath hitched. His eyes widened slightly.
"He told you that you were a useful tool," I continued, my voice calm, steady, and chillingly precise. "He told me, right in front of me, that men like you and women like me existed purely to prop up his genius. He believed he was a king, and the rest of us were just peasants in his court."
Julian lowered his head, shame washing over his features. "He... he was a tyrant. Everyone in the C-suite knew it. But we were too afraid of losing our positions to speak up."
"Fear is a cage you build for yourself, Julian," I said, standing up slowly from my chair, letting my eight-month-pregnant silhouette cast a sharp shadow across the floor. "You traded your integrity for a corner office and a pat on the head from a fraud. And now, you want me to grant you immunity for your complicity?"
Julian fell silent, his shoulders slumping in total defeat. He knew he had no leverage left.
"Take those papers," I said, pointing toward the stack of bank statements. "Hand them over to Marcus on your way out. He will deliver them directly to the federal investigators."
Julian looked up, hope flickering faintly in his eyes. "So... you're not going to help me?"
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"I am neither helping you nor destroying you, Julian," I replied coldly. "The law will decide what your loyalty was truly worth. Now, leave my office."
Julian swallowed hard, bowed his head once in quiet defeat, and turned around, walking out of the room with the heavy, dragging steps of a man finally carrying the full weight of his own choices.
