Chapter 6 - The Prodigal Returns
The commotion in the dining room abruptly ceased as Julian’s voice echoed off the high vaulted ceilings of the foyer.
Heavy footsteps shuffled across the hardwood floor, and a second later, Arthur Vance stumbled out of the dining room, followed closely by a pale, trembling Ethan and a disheveled Margaret.
Margaret froze halfway across the threshold. Her eyes bulged, her mouth hung open in a silent, grotesque O, and she looked as though she were staring straight into the gates of hell.
"J-Julian...?" Margaret choked out, her knees buckling once more, though this time Ethan caught her by the elbow before she hit the marble. "My son... my firstborn... You're... you're alive?"
Julian didn't look at his mother with love or forgiveness. His expression was cold, clinical, and utterly detached, like a CEO surveying a hostile takeover target.
"Hello, Mother," Julian said evenly, walking further into the foyer until he stood right beside me. He reached out, his hand resting familiarly and protectively against my lower back, right over my baby bump. "It’s been a long four years. I trust you haven't run the family foundation into the ground in my absence."
Arthur stepped forward, his aged face working with a complex mixture of profound relief, overwhelming rage, and deep betrayal. "You son of a bitch," Arthur rasped, his voice trembling with fury. "You let us mourn you. You let your mother weep over an empty casket. You let the entire board tear itself apart while you hid in the shadows?"
"I didn't hide, Dad," Julian replied, his voice chillingly calm. "I watched. I watched you hand the keys of the empire to a spineless coward who couldn't keep his pants zipped or his wife respected. I watched Margaret turn this home into a toxic tribunal. And most importantly, I waited for the right moment to take back what was stolen from me."
Ethan pushed past his mother, his face twisted in a mask of hysterical panic and jealous rage. "You!" Ethan screamed, lunging forward as if he wanted to tackle his brother. "You bastard! You’re the one? You’re the one Emily was—?"
Before Ethan could take another step, Julian moved with terrifying speed. With one fluid motion, he caught Ethan by the collar of his expensive sweater, slamming him backward against the solid oak pillar of the foyer with a sickening thud.
Ethan gasped for air, his hands clawing weakly at Julian’s wrists.
"Watch your tone, little brother," Julian whispered, his face inches from Ethan’s, his eyes burning with a dark, predatory light. "You had your chance. You had the company, you had the house, and you had a brilliant woman standing beside you. And what did you do? You traded her for an intern and proved to everyone that you were never anything more than a placeholder."
"Julian, stop!" I placed my hand gently on his arm. "Don't stoop to his level. We have what we came for."
Julian glanced down at me, the hard edge in his eyes instantly melting into something fiercely tender. He released Ethan, who slumped down onto the marble floor, coughing and gasping for breath.
"You're right, my love," Julian said softly, kissing the top of my head. He turned back to face Arthur and Margaret, who stood watching their entire dynasty evaporate before their eyes.
"Here is how it’s going to be," Julian announced, his voice carrying the absolute weight of a king issuing a decree. "Tomorrow morning, my legal team will file the paperwork dissolving Ethan’s executive position at Vance Industries. The trust fund, the Beacon Hill townhouse, and the shares allocated to him will be transferred into a trust for my daughter—the true heir to this family."
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"You can't do that!" Margaret shrieked, scrambling up off the floor, her hair wild, her designer blouse torn at the shoulder. "That’s family property! That belongs to the Vance name!"
Julian smiled—a cold, merciless smile that sent a shiver down my spine. "Mother, the Vance name is whatever I say it is now. And starting tomorrow, you and Ethan are going to pack your bags and leave this house. Because as of midnight, this estate belongs to me. And my wife."
