Chapter 4 - the shadow in the corridor
Julian stood frozen at the foot of the bed for three agonizing seconds, his manicured hands clenching into fists inside his suit pockets.
"Eleanor's children?" Julian sneered, trying to force a dismissive laugh. "Uncle Arthur, Eleanor vanished twelve years ago! You have no proof these orphans are connected to our bloodline! They could be grifters using a dead woman's name to target your estate!"
Caleb stood up from his armchair, his young frame rigid, his dark eyes glaring at Julian with fierce, protective bravery. "We didn't ask to come here! We came to clean the garden for food!"
"Silence, boy!" Julian snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Caleb.
"Watch your tongue in my presence, Julian!" Arthur's voice roared through the room, striking the stone walls like a physical blow. He brought his wooden cane down against the hardwood floor with a deafening CRACK. "If you speak to my grandson in that tone again, I will have security escort you off this property permanently!"
Julian swallowed hard, his arrogant posture wavering under the sheer weight of Arthur's rage. He adjusted his silk tie, his eyes darting toward the IV line hooked to Grace's arm.
"I am merely thinking of the family's security, Uncle," Julian said smoothly, regaining his icy composure. "The quarterly board meeting is in three days. If the press learns that you're housing unknown children in the main estate, the company stock will fluctuate."
"The company stock is none of your concern tonight, Julian," Arthur replied coldly. "Leave this wing."
Julian offered a tight, fake bow of his head, glared at Caleb with dark malice, and turned on his heel, walking out into the dimly lit hallway.
Caleb watched the heavy oak door swing shut behind Julian, a deep sense of unease taking root in his chest. He had spent eleven years navigating the rough streets of the lower ward, and he knew a predator when he saw one. Julian Whitmore was dangerous.
"Grandpa..." Caleb whispered, turning back to Arthur. "Who was that man?"
Arthur sat back down in his chair, looking tired and heavy. "That is Julian Whitmore... my late brother's son. For twelve years, since your mother left, Julian has operated under the assumption that he would inherit my entire empire when I pass away."
Arthur looked at his sleeping grandchildren, his jaw setting like iron. "Julian built his career on lies, Caleb. And tonight, he realized that his claim to the Whitmore legacy has just evaporated."
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Meanwhile, down in the dark gallery corridor on the first floor, Julian stood near a marble pillar, holding an encrypted mobile phone to his ear.
"It's Julian," he whispered furiously into the receiver. "The old man found Eleanor's brats. They're sleeping in the west wing right now... I need you to run a full background check on Grace, Caleb, and Annie Bennett. Find me something I can use to destroy them before the board meeting on Friday."
