Chapter 5 - THE GODFATHER'S WRIT
================================================================================
Marcus Kane didn't rush. He walked across the rain-slicked asphalt with the measured calm of an executioner heading to the gallows. In his left hand, he carried a thick, wax-sealed manila envelope wrapped in red evidentiary tape.
Elena backed away, shielding herself behind Julian. "Don't touch me! We have rights! We have lawyers!"
"You had lawyers, Miss Ross," Marcus said smoothly, coming to a halt three feet away. "Past tense. As of twelve minutes ago, Vance Enterprises severed all retaining fees for Miller & Associates. Turns out, law firms don't like working for free when their primary retainer bounces."
Julian wiped the rain from his forehead, trying to salvage any shred of dignity. "Marcus, you're making a catastrophic mistake. Victoria is experiencing acute delirium from her medical trauma. Whatever she told you—"
"She didn't tell me anything, Julian," Marcus cut in, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "She handed me six weeks of forensic accounting logs. Offshore wire transfers to your shell company in the Caymans. Audio surveillance from the guest suite at the Hamptons estate. And best of all..."
Marcus broke the wax seal on the envelope and pulled out a single laminated photograph. He held it up inches from Julian’s nose.
It was a timestamped screenshot from a hidden camera inside their private penthouse kitchen. Julian was clearly visible, carefully measuring white crystalline powder from an amber vial into a green thermos marked V.V.
Julian’s breath caught in his throat. The street noise around them seemed to vanish into dead air.
"You're a sloppy murderer, Julian," Marcus whispered. "You bought pharmaceutical-grade digitalis through an unencrypted browser on your company laptop. Did you really think my IT security team wouldn't flag a dark-web portal operating inside our firewall?"
Elena let out a strangled shriek and turned to bolt down the sidewalk, but two uniformed NYPD officers stepped out from the shadows of an adjacent subway entrance, blocking her path.
"Julian Vance, Elena Ross," the lead officer declared, pulling handcuffs from his utility belt. "Step forward and put your hands behind your back."
Julian didn't look at the cops. His wild, desperate gaze locked onto the town car across the street.
Inside the vehicle, Victoria lowered the window all the way. She locked eyes with her husband, her face completely expressionless.
May you like
Then she mouthed three simple words: Check your pocket.
================================================================================
