Chapter 6 - Shadows of the Past
Julian sat on the edge of the creaking motel bed, the receiver pressed so tightly against his ear that his knuckles turned white.
"Stole it?" Julian stammered, his mind racing through fragments of memories he had buried long ago. "No... she was poor. I remember the small apartment. I remember the cold."
"A carefully constructed theater, my dear cousin," Marcus Sterling sneered through the line. "Victoria is a master strategist. She knew back then that if the Sterling family realized she had secured Charles’s private bearer bonds, we would have dragged her through every court in the country. So she played the poor, desperate mother. She let the Vanguards take you so she could disappear into the shadows without anyone auditing her sudden wealth."
Julian’s chest burned with a mixture of confusion and sudden, toxic hope. All his life, he had lived with the quiet guilt of abandoning his mother for the Vanguard riches. But if Marcus was telling the truth... if she had let him go on purpose...
"Why are you telling me this now?" Julian demanded, his voice hardening.
"Because Victoria just executed a hostile takeover of Vanguard Group, which triggered a discovery clause in my late uncle’s trust," Marcus explained. "We have forty-eight hours to challenge her ownership of Rivera Group in supreme court. But to file the claim, we need the original blood-line affidavit—a document that was sealed in your grandfather Edward Vanguard’s private safe at the estate."
"The estate is locked," Julian said quickly. "Richard Vanguard barred me from the property last night."
"Richard Vanguard is currently signing over his soul to your mother at Rivera Tower," Marcus replied with a dark laugh. "The estate is empty, Julian. The security codes are still the ones you used. Go into that house, open the safe in Edward's study, and bring me that red leather binder. Do that, and by tomorrow night, you won't just be forgiven—you will be the co-owner of a four-billion-dollar conglomerate."
Julian stood up, his eyes bright with a dangerous, desperate fire. The shame that had crushed him for the last twelve hours vanished, replaced by the familiar poison of entitlement.
"I'll get the binder," Julian said.
Two hours later, a heavy black storm cloud hung over the Vanguard estate. The sprawling iron gates, usually guarded by two private security cars, stood unmanned, the guards recalled due to the sudden liquidation of the estate’s payroll.
Julian slid through the side pedestrian gate, pulling his rain jacket hood low over his face. He moved quickly across the manicured lawns, past the darkened fountains, toward the grand stone manor.
He pulled a keycard from his wallet—a master access pass he had kept—and swiped it at the side entrance. The green light blinked, and the heavy oak door clicked open.
The house was dead silent. The grand crystal chandeliers were turned off, casting long, twisted shadows across the marble foyer.
Julian hurried up the grand staircase, his heart hammering against his ribs, and made his way to the late Edward Vanguard’s private study at the end of the east wing.
He pushed the door open. The smell of old leather and expensive tobacco still lingered in the air. He walked straight to the massive mahogany desk, pushed aside the bronze statue of a hunting hound, and exposed the digital keypad set into the wall panel.
He entered the combination: 10-24-98—his birthday, the day Edward Vanguard had legally bought him from his mother.
The heavy steel safe clicked open with a soft, mechanical hiss.
Julian reached inside, his hands trembling. His fingers brushed against stacks of bearer bonds, old deeds, and finally, a thick, faded red leather binder.
He pulled it out and opened it. Inside were yellowed documents, bank transfer receipts dated twenty-two years ago, and a medical record bearing the seal of a private clinic.
He flipped through the pages, reading the lines frantically:
Subject: Victoria Rivera. Asset Transfer: $2,000,000 USD. Condition: Total surrender of parental rights to child, Julian Rivera. Paternity Confirmation: Charles Sterling (Deceased).
Julian’s breath hitched. It was true. Everything Marcus had said was real.
"Looking for something, son?"
May you like
Julian jumped, dropping the binder onto the desk as he spun around.
Standing in the doorway of the dark study, wrapped in an elegant dark trench coat, was Victoria. Behind her stood Arthur, holding a quiet, terrifying smile.
