Chapter 9 - The Auction of Vanity
Genevieve lunged forward, clutching Julian's arm in frantic confusion as society photographers began snapping photos of the unfolding confrontation. "Julian, who is this man? Why are the federal marshals standing behind him?"
"He is the Chairman of Vanguard Global, Miss Vance," Lead Special Agent Miller announced, stepping onto the raised platform with a red-sealed federal seizure warrant. "And under Federal Case Number 4092, every asset registered to Julian Vance, including this yacht, his private aircraft, and his offshore accounts, has been frozen under a emergency RICO indictment."
Julian staggered backward, colliding with the ice sculpture of a soaring eagle that shattered onto the deck behind him. "This is a mistake! My hedge fund is fully collateralized by ancestral trust properties in Illinois!"
"You mean the ancestral trust properties you stole from my grandfather after you poisoned his heart medication with succinylcholine?" I asked, stepping up onto the platform and looming over my trembling cousin.
The entire ballroom erupted into gasps of horror, guests scrambling away from Julian as if he were a leper. Genevieve screamed, tearing her emerald necklace off her neck and throwing it onto the floor before sprinting toward the exit in absolute disgrace.
"You have no proof!" Julian screamed hysterically, sweat pouring down his face, ruining his expensive haircut. "The coroner ruled Harold's death natural! You can't touch me, Lucas, I have the best defense attorneys in the world on retainer!"
"Your defense attorneys dropped you twenty minutes ago when Vanguard Capital acquired their parent law firm," Marcus Kane said, tossing a termination notice onto the table. "And as for proof, your primary Swiss banker in Zurich just signed a full sworn confession detailing your twenty-million-dollar money laundering pipeline."
I reached out with my gloved hand, grabbing Julian by the lapels of his ivory tuxedo and lifting him onto his tiptoes with effortless, iron strength. "You took my trophy, Julian. You took my college fund, you took my grandfather's life, and you thought you could strut across the world like a king."
"Lucas, please... we're cousins, we have the same blood!" Julian wept, tears and snot running down his face as he dangled helplessly in my grip. "Take the yacht, take the money, take everything, just let me get on the plane, I'll never come back to America, I swear to God!"
May you like
"You're not getting on a plane, Julian," I whispered, leaning close so my words burned into his ear. "You're getting on a federal transport bus to a maximum-security penitentiary where you will spend the rest of your miserable life scrubbing floors."
I released him, and Julian collapsed onto the wet teak deck like a sack of garbage, sobbing uncontrollably as federal marshals snapped heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists. The golden boy was finally in chains, stripped of every borrowed dollar, every fake smile, and every shred of vanity he had ever possessed.
