Chapter 10 - The Patriarch's Ultimatum
Julian picked up the bedside comm unit, pressing the private channel with a thumb that still bore scratches from the morning’s battle. His other arm held Harper securely against him, while she clutched baby Alexander tightly beneath the folds of the thermal blanket.
""Speak,"" Julian commanded, his voice cold as a winter grave.
A wet, rattling cough echoed through the speaker before an ancient, raspy voice answered. ""Julian Bell. You fight like a wounded lion guarding a carcass. But you forget who built the foundation of this city.""
Don Vittorio Valenti was eighty-two years old, kept alive solely by mechanical life support and specialized blood transfusions at his fortified estate on the coast. He was the shadow ruler of the state's political and judicial system.
""You sent butchers into my home, Valenti,"" Julian said, walking briskly out of the suite toward the private service elevator, flanked by Vance and four surviving elite guards. ""You sent them to harvest my son.""
""Your brother offered me a commodity I desperately need, Julian,"" Valenti replied calmly, the hiss of an oxygen tank audible in the background. ""The Rh-null bloodline of the Bell family is the only reason my bone marrow hasn't collapsed completely. Your father knew this. He paid his tribute every five years in plasma. Did he never tell you the real reason Bell Holdings was granted tax immunity for twenty years?""
Julian stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing dangerously. ""My father is dead. His debts died with him.""
""Debts of blood never die, boy,"" Valenti spat, his voice hardening with ancient malice. ""You have something that belongs to me. A rare seed that can keep me alive for another decade. Hand the infant over to my medical team at the perimeter, and I will let you keep your company, your money, and your mistress. Refuse... and I will release the unredacted ledgers to the Federal Bureau within ten minutes. By nightfall, you will be branded a terrorist financier, your assets will be seized, and every law enforcement agency on the continent will hunt you down.""
Harper heard the conversation through the speaker, gasping in horror as she looked up at Julian, her face pale. ""Julian... the ledgers. If he releases the unredacted files, they will send a strike team to arrest you. You’ll lose everything.""
Julian looked down at her, then down at his sleeping son, whose tiny chest rose and fell in peaceful rhythm against Harper’s heartbeat.
""Valenti,"" Julian spoke into the radio, his voice utterly devoid of fear, filled instead with absolute, terrifying conviction. ""Take the ledgers. Take the assets. Burn the company to the ground.""
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.
""What did you say?"" Valenti wheezed.
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""A kingdom built on compromise is just an expensive prison,"" Julian said, his lips curling into a lethal smile. ""I don't need the money to destroy you, Vittorio. I am coming for you. And when I arrive, no amount of rare blood will save your withered soul.""
Julian crushed the comm unit in his fist, shattering the circuitry, and kicked open the steel door leading out onto the rain-swept secondary helipad.
