Chapter 2 - The Crimson Ledger
Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat. She stepped back instinctively, her hand gripping the edge of the doorframe. "How did you find me?"
Julian didn't answer immediately. He stepped past her into the tiny living room, his tall frame making the already cramped space feel suffocating. His sharp eyes scanned the room in a fraction of a second, cataloging every detail: the peeling linoleum, the stack of unpaid utility bills on the counter, and finally, the eviction notice resting under the lamp.
"In Chicago, Miss Bennett, nothing stays hidden from me for long," Julian said, turning his gaze back to her. "Especially not the woman who managed to quiet my son when thirty pediatricians and a battalion of nannies failed."
"I don't want any trouble," Sarah said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "I was just... I helped the baby. That’s all. You have your child, I have my life. Please just leave."
Julian walked slowly toward the kitchen counter. He reached out with one large, impeccably manicured finger and tapped the corner of the eviction notice. "Three thousand four hundred and fifty dollars. Back rent, late fees, and municipal penalties. Plus another twelve hundred for the electricity and water you haven't paid this month."
Sarah’s face flushed hot with humiliation. "That is none of your business."
"Everything in this city is my business," Julian replied smoothly, turning to face her. "Especially the variables that affect people who hold my son. I’ve done my homework on you, Sarah. Sarah Bennett. Twenty-eight years old. Fired from your accounting job six months ago because you refused to falsify ledger entries for your crooked boss. A bitter divorce pending against a man who buys judges like cheap cigars. And an upcoming custody battle you are mathematically guaranteed to lose because you can't afford a lawyer who won't sell you out."
The words struck Sarah like physical blows. She stepped forward, her fear momentarily eclipsed by a searing, protective rage. "You investigated me? What right do you have—"
"I have the right of a desperate father," Julian interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, losing its conversational cadence and hardening into pure, unyielding steel. "And you are a desperate mother. We have a mutual problem, Miss Bennett. You are about to lose your daughter. And my son needs his colic managed by someone who doesn't panic when he screams."
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He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulled out a thick, leather-bound checkbook, and placed it squarely on top of the eviction notice.
"Name your price," Julian said. "In exchange, you move into a place where the roof doesn't leak. You hire a shark of an attorney. And you become Leo's live-in nanny."
