BLOODLINE OF GLASS AND VENOM

The hospital corridor smelled of bleach and dried blood. Julian sat on a metal bench outside Clara’s room, staring down at his bandaged shoulder and stained clothes. His mind was a battlefield of fragmented memories: Marcus teaching him how to sail off the Cape; Marcus defending him against Arthur's cold cruelty; Marcus looking at him with an unbearable, unspoken sorrow before suddenly collapsing at the dinner table three years ago.

The door clicked, and Clara walked out, dressed in oversized gray sweatpants and a dark wool coat. Despite the trauma of the night, she moved with quiet authority, Ross flanking her shoulder.

""You shouldn't be walking,"" Julian said, his voice hollow and cracked.

""I don't have time to lie in bed,"" Clara replied, stopping before him. ""Eleanor knows Sterling failed. Protocol Zero will already be underway.""

Julian looked up, his eyes bloodshot. ""What is Protocol Zero?""

""It’s the systematic liquidation of all Vance commercial assets into non-extradition shell accounts,"" Clara explained. ""Your mother is going to strip the Vance empire bare, declare bankruptcy on the public companies, and leave thousands of workers penniless while she flees to Zurich. She did it to Marcus’s shipping lines, and she’s doing it to yours.""

Julian stood up slowly, the pain in his torn shoulder flaring, but his eyes were beginning to clear. The golden boy of high society was dead; the betrayed son was waking up.

""She used me,"" Julian murmured. ""She forced me to marry Victoria to secure the offshore banks, telling me it was to protect our legacy.""

""It was never your legacy, Julian. It was Marcus’s,"" Clara said softly, her tone shifting slightly from venom to cold pragmatism. ""You have two choices. You can let Eleanor take everything and run, or you can help me break into the vault at Vance Tower before the markets open.""