Chapter 9
Julian slumped back in his chair, the fight completely draining out of him as the digital proof stared unblinkingly from the screen. "It was supposed to be a warning," Julian muttered, his voice barely audible over the faint hum of the office ventilation system. "A warning for what?" Vance demanded, slamming his palm flat against the mahogany desk. Julian looked up, his eyes bitter and resentful. "She was auditing the offshore logistics accounts last month. She found the discrepancies in the shipping manifests. My accounts." Elena maintained her steady gaze, remembering the night she stayed late staring at numbers that didn't add up, tracing them back to executive-level skimming. "You tried to intimidate me by targeting my daughter," Elena said, the realization settling into her bones like cold iron. "You wanted to ruin our reputation so management wouldn't take my audit findings seriously." Julian didn't deny it; he just stared down at his polished leather shoes. Vance rubbed his temples, looking older and far more tired than he had ten minutes ago. "Turn in your keycard, Julian. Security will escort you out of the building in five minutes. Don't bother packing your desk." Julian stood up slowly, shooting one last venomous glare at Elena before turning and walking out of the office with a heavy, defeated limp—a reminder of the kick that had started it all.
