Chapter 5 - The Desperate Plea at the OfficeTwo weeks later, the legal siege was complete, and Julian’s fragile house of cards had completely turned to ash.
FunnelTech had officially filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy. The federal marshals had seized his luxury imported sports car from the apartment complex where he was temporarily crashing, and his wealthy friends had miraculously vanished the moment his credit cards stopped working.
I was sitting behind my desk on the forty-second floor of my agency’s headquarters, reviewing quarterly growth projections, when my executive assistant’s voice buzzed through the intercom.
“Maya? There’s... someone downstairs in the lobby insisting on seeing you. Security tried to escort him out, but he’s causing a massive scene.”
“Who is it?” I asked without looking up.
“It’s Julian, ma’am. He looks... terrible.”
I paused my pen. “Send him up. But make sure two security guards stay right outside my glass door.”
Ten minutes later, the heavy glass door of my office swung open.
Julian Vale looked like a ghost of the man he used to be. His expensive tailored suit was rumpled and ill-fitting, his designer shoes were scuffed, and his hair was unwashed. The arrogant, untouchable smirk that had defined him for years was entirely gone, replaced by hollow, desperate eyes and twitching hands.
He took two trembling steps into the office, stopping short as the two massive security guards stationed themselves right behind him.
“Maya,” Julian breathed, his voice cracking with raw, pathetic emotion. He dropped his hands in a pleading gesture. “Please. We need to talk. You have to call off your lawyers. They’re destroying my life.”
I didn't stand up. I leaned back in my leather ergonomic chair, spinning my Montblanc pen slowly between my fingers, and looked at him with absolute, unbothered detachment.
“Your life isn't being destroyed, Julian,” I replied evenly. “It’s being accurately priced. For three years, you lived a lifestyle you didn't earn, funded by a woman you treated like an ATM machine and physically assaulted when she finally set a boundary.”
Julian flushed crimson, a flash of his old temper momentarily breaking through the despair. “I made a mistake! Mother was stressed about the wedding! We panicked! But we’re having a child together—!”
“Correction,” I interrupted sharply, leaning forward so my voice carried the full weight of my authority. “I am having a child. A child that you and your mother tried to endanger by shoving a four-month-pregnant woman against a drywall over an extra ten thousand dollars for orchids.”
Julian swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. He took a desperate step forward, his knees nearly buckling.
“Please, Maya,” he sobbed, the tears finally spilling over his eyelashes. “I have nothing left. My apartment lease was terminated. My car was repossessed. The bankruptcy court is freezing my personal accounts. If you don't drop the civil lawsuit, I’m going to prison for corporate misrepresentation.”
“Then I suggest you start cooperating with the federal prosecutors,” I said coldly. “Because my legal team isn't dropping a single charge until every penny of the four hundred and eighty thousand dollars you stole is returned to my accounts.”
May you like
Julian stood in silence for a long, agonizing moment. The fight completely drained out of his bones, leaving behind only the crushing, unavoidable weight of his own destruction.
Without another word, he turned around and walked out of the office, his shoulders slumped in utter defeat, disappearing down the hallway and out of my life forever.
