Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in the Library
Julian didn’t look afraid. He raised his hands slowly, a cold, mocking smirk playing on his thin lips.
“You’ve gotten soft, Gabriel,” Julian remarked smoothly. “Threatening your own blood over a woman who was scrubbing toilets a month ago?”
Mara stepped out from behind Gabriel’s broad shoulder, her face calm, her posture upright and dignified despite her visible pregnancy.
“I was cleaning floors because I worked for a living, Mr. Vance,” Mara said, her voice clear and firm. “Which is more than can be said for a man who sneaks into his nephew’s home like a thief in the middle of the night.”
Julian’s smirk faltered slightly as he looked at her.
“You think you’re secure because Gabriel signed a paper?” Julian sneered. “Tomorrow morning at the board meeting, I will expose your background to every financial institution in North America. You will be dragged through the mud in every newspaper from New York to London.”
Mara walked up right beside Gabriel, placing her soft hand gently over his gun hand, lowering the weapon slightly.
“You don’t need a gun for him, Gabriel,” Mara said quietly.
She reached into her robe pocket, pulling out a small leather-bound ledger—the very ledger she had kept during her eight years as a high-level executive assistant before applying to Hargrove Grand.
“What is that?” Julian frowned.
“This,” Mara stated, opening the ledger to a marked page, “is the secondary shipping manifest for Vance European Logistics from four years ago. When I was looking for administrative work, I audited public tax disclosures for every major firm in Chicago—including yours.”
Julian’s face visibly paled.
“You filed three false customs declarations regarding steel imports through the Port of Montreal in 2022,” Mara continued, her eyes locked onto Julian with sharp, analytical precision. “You used three shell companies registered in Delaware to skim fifteen million dollars from Gabriel’s brother’s estate before he died.”
Gabriel turned his head, looking at Mara in absolute astonishment.
“She’s lying!” Julian shouted, his calm demeanor entirely shattering.
“The federal tax audit team in Illinois will receive these documents at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, Mr. Vance,” Mara said coolly. “Unless, of course, you resign from the board and transfer your personal shares back to the family trust before sunrise.”
Julian stared at the young pregnant woman in absolute terror. He had expected an uneducated, vulnerable maid he could intimidate with lawyers.
Instead, he was standing in front of a brilliant, lethal executive strategist who held his entire life in her hands.
Gabriel let out a low, victorious laugh, wrapping his arm securely around Mara’s waist.
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“You heard her, Uncle Julian,” Gabriel said smoothly. “Resign by sunrise... or spend your retirement in a federal prison cell beside Preston Hargrove.”
Julian turned on his heel, practically sprinting out through the French doors into the rain.
