Chapter 3 - The Purge of the Nest
Julian did not return to the penthouse alone. Behind him filed four burly, unsmiling men dressed in plain black tactical suits—the apex predators of his corporate intelligence firm, led by his trusted right-hand man, Ronald.
When Julian pushed through the double mahogany doors, Vanessa was not weeping in remorse. Instead, she was frantically stuffing heavy designer leather suitcases with jewelry boxes, thick envelopes of bearer bonds, and rare couture pieces. The maid, an elderly woman named Maria who had served Julian’s family for twenty years, was cornered near the hallway pantry, trembling in terror.
"Julian!" Vanessa gasped, dropping a diamond-encrusted bracelet on the floor as the heavy lock clicked shut behind the four guards. Her haughty demeanor cracked, replaced by defensive indignation. "You frightened me! How is the boy? I was just packing some things so I could come stay with you at the hospital—"
"Quiet," Julian uttered softly. The single word hit the room like a sonic boom.
Vanessa’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes darted from Julian’s cold face to the four stone-faced operatives spreading through the perimeter of the room. Ronald immediately moved to the penthouse’s central security terminal, plugging an encrypted hard drive into the primary override port.
"Mr. Vance," Ronald reported without looking up from the monitor. "The server logs show four separate manual wipes over the last forty-eight hours. The nursery and living room feeds were intentionally scrubbed."
"It was an accident! A system glitch!" Vanessa cried, taking a step backward until her back hit the floor-to-ceiling glass. "Julian, you're treating me like a criminal! I am your wife! I took care of your pathetic, broken brat while you were off closing mergers in Tokyo!"
Julian walked toward her, each heavy footstep echoing ominously against the marble. He stopped barely an inch from her face, his gaze stripping away whatever vanity she had left.
"You never cared for him," Julian whispered, his breath cold against her cheek. "You tolerated him until you secured your name on my accounts. Maria."
The old maid stepped forward, weeping softly. "Speak, Maria," Julian ordered.
Maria swallowed hard, terrified of Vanessa’s venomous glare. "Mr. Vance... Mrs. Vance told me if I ever told you about the locked closets... or the cold baths... she would have my grandson deported."
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Vanessa lunged at the maid. "You filthy, lying peasant—!"
Julian’s hand moved faster than a striking serpent, catching Vanessa by the throat.
