Chapter 3 - THE UNWELCOME GUESTBefore Julian’s thumb could hit the call button, the heavy mahogany front doors of the mansion didn't just open—they burst inward with a splintering crash that shook the entire foyer.
Three figures in tactical gear swarmed into the hallway, followed sharply by a tall, imposing man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit. His silver-streaked hair was slicked back, and his eyes were like chips of blue ice.
Julian froze, his phone slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the hardwood floor. The color drained entirely from his face, leaving him looking like a ghost in a bespoke suit.
"Well, well, well," a deep, gravelly voice echoed through the sprawling mansion. "What a charming little family reunion. Am I interrupting something important? Like a framing session, perhaps?"
Eleanor spun around, her face twisting in rage. "Who the hell are you?! How dare you break into my home! Julian, call the security guards! Call the police right now!"
The man in the charcoal suit ignored her completely. He walked past the armed guards with slow, measured strides, his gaze locked entirely on Julian. He pulled a gold-plated pocket watch from his vest, flipped it open, and snapped it shut.
"Ten years, Julian," the man said softly, stopping just a few feet away from the pale, trembling master of the house. "Ten years you’ve been living this high life. Driving foreign sports cars, wearing custom Swiss watches, playing the benevolent philanthropist with my stolen capital."
Julian swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. "Vance... I... I thought you were still in Geneva."
"Clearly," Vance replied, his smile terrifyingly cold. "If you thought I was still across the Atlantic, you wouldn't have felt comfortable executing such a sloppy, amateurish frame job on an innocent girl just to cover up your own massive financial embezzlement."
Eleanor looked between Vance and her husband, completely bewildered. "Julian? Who is this man? What is he talking about? Tell him to get out of our house!"
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"Shut up, Eleanor," Julian hissed, his composure entirely shattered.
Vance chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "Oh, let her speak, Julian. Let her realize that the man she married isn't a brilliant self-made tech investor. He’s a two-bit con artist, a corporate embezzler, and, as of tonight, a caught-red-handed thief."
