Chapter 2 - Blood in the Ivory Tower
The air in the penthouse instantly crystallized into pure adrenaline. Julian did not waste a second looking back at his brother; his instincts, honed through a decade of ruthless survival in the underworld of corporate warfare, took over entirely. With a swift, protective sweep of his left arm, he pulled Harper behind the solid expanse of his body, positioning himself directly between her pregnant belly and Marcus’s drawn firearms.
""Marcus,"" Julian said, his tone devoid of shock, descending into a deadly, chilling calm. ""I knew you were siphoning capital from the shipping terminals. I didn't think you possessed the stupidity to bring iron into my house.""
Marcus stepped fully into the penthouse, his expensive loafers clicking deliberately on the glossy stone. He was younger, thinner, and carried a perpetual sneer born of a lifetime living in Julian’s towering shadow. ""Your house, Julian? Look outside. The SEC is freezing your domestic accounts as we speak. You think Harper took those ledgers to save you? Or did you forget who put the bug in her ear that you were going to eliminate her after the audit?""
Harper stiffened against Julian’s back, her fingers clenching into the crisp fabric of his white shirt. ""What did you say?"" she breathed, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
Julian turned his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers for a fraction of a second. There was no anger toward her in his gaze—only an agonizing flicker of comprehension. ""He played you, Harper. He orchestrated your flight so the board would declare me legally compromised.""
""And it worked brilliantly,"" Marcus chuckled, raising his hand. The two gunmen stepped forward, leveling their weapons directly at Julian’s chest. ""She ran away with the proof of your tax evasion. Now she conveniently returns right when the board is ready to vote me in as chairman. All I need to do is clean up the mess. A tragic domestic dispute between a rogue CEO and his embezzling mistress.""
""Don't call her that,"" Julian growled, stepping forward half an inch. The lethal aura radiating from him was palpable. ""You touch her, Marcus, and I will tear your limbs from your torso while you're still drawing breath.""
""Big words for an unarmed man,"" Marcus sneered, his finger hovering near his pistol. ""Drop to your knees, brother. Let’s make this neat.""
Harper felt a sudden, sharp contraction ripple across her abdomen—a piercing cramp brought on by the terror and exhaustion. She gasped softly, her hand pressing hard against her stomach as her knees buckled.
Julian’s attention fractured for a millisecond as he felt her stumble. ""Harper!""
In that split second of distraction, Marcus’s lead gunman shifted his aim toward Harper. ""Quiet down, lady—""
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A deafening crack tore through the penthouse. But it wasn't Marcus’s gun that had fired. Glass from the western panoramic wall shattered violently inward in a hail of crystalline shards, and the gunman to Marcus’s left collapsed instantly onto the floor, blood pooling beneath his skull from a sniper’s round fired from an adjacent rooftop.
Before anyone could react, Julian threw his weight forward, tackling Marcus to the ground.
