Chapter 7 - CORNERED RATS
By 2:00 PM, the penthouse was completely quiet.
Julian had been escorted out in handcuffs down the service elevator, wearing only an old pair of sweatpants and a winter coat he had hastily grabbed from the foyer closet. He wasn't allowed to take a single watch, car key, or laptop—everything had been cataloged by Darcy’s team as potential marital assets subject to forensic review.
Fiona had refused to leave until the deputies threatened her with trespassing. She had walked out clutching her handbag like a shield, weeping hysterically, leaving her emerald birthday dress trailing on the carpet after changing into an old sweater she had kept in the guest room.
Darcy stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping a fresh bottle of sparkling water while the catering team quietly cleared the sixty untouched silver platters.
“The locks are already being re-keyed,” Darcy said, looking out at the city. “A private security detail will be stationed outside your door twenty-four hours a day until the preliminary hearing on Friday. Julian won't get within five hundred feet of this building.”
“He won't stop with this, Darcy,” I said, staring at the empty dining table. The rush of adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind a deep, hollow exhaustion. “Julian has lived off other people his entire life. When an animal like that gets cornered, he doesn’t surrender. He bites.”
“Let him try,” Darcy said with a cold smirk. “His offshore bank in Grand Cayman just responded to our emergency injunction. They’ve locked the funds pending an international inquiry. He has zero liquidity. His mother’s credit cards are already declining. Where is he going to go?”
“To the only place he still thinks he owns,” I whispered, an icy realization dawning on me.
Darcy turned around, her brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”
“The lake house in Lake Geneva,” I said, my heart pounding suddenly. “My grandfather built that cabin fifty years ago. It’s titled under a secondary family LLC. Julian found the deed three months ago and insisted we store his father’s vintage art collection and our safe deposit boxes up there. If he realizes the Cayman money is gone, he’s going to raid that safe.”
Darcy immediately pulled her phone from her blazer pocket. “What’s in that safe, Sloan?”
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“Bearer bonds,” I breathed, the blood rushing to my ears. “My grandfather left three million dollars in bearer bonds in that safe as an emergency trust. Julian was never supposed to have the combination. But last week... I found a slip of paper in his study with numbers written on it. I thought it was a phone number.”
Darcy cursed sharply and dialed a number. “Miller! Turn the squad car around. Julian Vance isn't just a bitter ex—he’s heading north.”
