Chapter 3 - The Confession of a MonsterI crossed the study in three long strides, slammed both hands down onto the polished surface of his desk, and leaned in until our faces were inches apart.
“Where is she, Julian?” I hissed, the venom in my voice making the air between us crackle.
Julian raised an eyebrow, feigning innocent confusion. “Where is who, Adrian? You look frantic. Has business stress finally broken your composure?”
“Don't play games with me,” I snarled, grabbing him by the velvet lapels of his jacket and hauling him halfway across the desk until his scotch glass tipped over, dark amber liquid spilling across the leather blotter. “The textile factory on 4th Street. Fourteen children locked in cages. And a little girl named Rachel who recognized the signet ring on your finger.”
Julian’s eyes flickered—just for a fraction of a second—losing their serene veneer. A cold, sardonic smile touched the corners of his thin lips.
“Ah, little Rachel,” Julian murmured, adjusting his collar with agonizing calm even as my fists gripped his jacket. “Such a resilient child. We had high hopes for her placement network overseas. Too bad your stray dog had to ruin a very profitable quarter.”
Hearing him speak of human children—of terrified, bruised little girls—as if they were corporate inventory broke the last fragile thread of my restraint.
I drew back my fist and drove it straight into his jaw.
The sickening crack of bone echoed through the study. Julian was sent crashing backward into his leather executive chair, flipping it over and sending him sprawling onto the Persian rug. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his immaculate white shirt.
Matthew rushed forward, grabbing my arm. “Adrian, stop! If you kill him here, we’ll never find out what happened to Lucy!”
That name stopped me dead in my tracks.
I exhaled slowly, my chest heaving, my knuckles bruised and burning. I stepped back, letting Matthew help the old monster sit up against the base of his mahogany bookshelf.
Julian wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, letting out a dry, rattling laugh. He looked up at me with eyes full of malicious, unrepentant pride.
“You always were the aggressive one, Adrian,” Julian wheezed, tasting his own blood. “Your father was too soft. He cared about ethics, about community, about building things that lasted. But empires aren't built on charity. They’re built on leverage. Control. And sometimes... sacrifices.”
“Lucy wasn't a sacrifice,” I said, my voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. “She was six years old.”
Julian’s smile widened, exposing stained teeth. “And she was extraordinarily bright. Do you know why she disappeared that afternoon, Adrian? You’ve blamed yourself for twenty-three years, haven't you? You told yourself that if you hadn't gone to meet your friends, she’d still be here.”
My entire body went rigid. The room seemed to tilt on its axis.
“What are you talking about?” I choked out.
“She didn't wander off,” Julian whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. “She walked right up to my car. She recognized my ring. She trusted me because I was her uncle. And I needed a subject for a very exclusive, very high-paying private buyer in Zurich who collected children with rare genetic markers.”
Matthew let out a strangled cry, sinking to his knees on the rug as if he had been physically struck.
“You sold her?” Matthew wept, his voice breaking entirely. “You sold our sister?”
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“Not sold,” Julian corrected smoothly, spitting a drop of blood onto the floor. “Brokered. Just like the fourteen downstairs. It’s a global network, boys. Politicians, judges, international financiers—they all wear the crest. They all pay millions to ensure our bloodline stays untouchable while we harvest the vulnerability of the weak.”
He looked directly at me, his eyes gleaming with madness. “And you, Adrian? You built your entire empire using venture capital funneled directly from my offshore accounts. Every million-dollar deal you closed, every corporate ladder you climbed—you were building your success on the back of the very syndicate you’re trying to destroy. You’re just as dirty as I am.”
