Chapter 12 - The Iron Gate

Outside the gates of the sprawling Westchester estate, heavy autumn rain began to spit from a bruised grey sky. Ethan Mercer clung to the wrought-iron bars of the security gate, his knuckles bleeding where he had scraped them against the spikes.
"Claire! Open this damn gate!" Ethan screamed, his voice cracking with desperation as two armed private security guards stood motionless a few feet away, their hands resting near their holstered weapons. "You can't do this to me! You stole my life, my company, my entire existence!"
A sleek black SUV glided silently up the wet gravel drive. The tinted window rolled down halfway to reveal Julian Vance’s profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights. Julian didn't look angry; he looked profoundly bored, as if observing a pest crawling across a pristine sidewalk.
"Mr. Mercer," Julian said smoothly, his voice carrying effortlessly over the hum of the engine. "You are trespassing on private property owned by Vance Holdings."
Ethan lunged against the bars, his face twisted in raw hatred. "Julian! You manipulated everything! You used your billions to buy a judge, you stole my wife, you ruined me!"
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Julian tilted his head, a cold, dangerous smile touching his lips. "I didn't steal anything, Mercer. You simply dropped a diamond into the dirt, and I had the vision to pick it up and polish it. Federal marshals are five minutes out. I suggest you enjoy the fresh air while you still can."
With a soft hiss, the window rolled back up, and the SUV swept past him toward the mansion, leaving Ethan screaming curses into the empty rain.