Chapter 2 - The Anatomy of a Puppet
The heavy elevator doors dinged, and Eleanor Sterling stepped into the penthouse, still draped in her mink stole, her face painted in panicked indignation. Behind her, Camille trailed closely, dabbing fake tears with a silk handkerchief.
“Julian, darling, put this insanity to rest,” Eleanor commanded, sweeping into the nursery. “She made a scene, she threw a childish tantrum, and now she wants attention. You will issue a statement in the morning saying Nora took ill and retreated to a private clinic.”
Julian slowly stood, his eyes bloodshot, clutching the folder behind his back. “Did you know she was pregnant, Mother?”
Eleanor blinked, her composure flickering for a split second before hardening into cold pragmatism. “A child changes nothing. If anything, it complicates our leverage. You know Vance Industries holds thirty-five percent of our voting stock. If Nora divorces you cleanly, we lose control.”
“Is that why Camille is here?” Julian whispered, turning his gaze toward the mistress who had shared his bed for six months. “Is that why you slid into my company, Camille?”
Camille’s doe-eyed vulnerability vanished instantly. She straightened her posture, a cool smirk touching her lips. “Don’t act so naive, Julian. You were stressed, lonely, and too weak to handle your father’s legacy. Your mother needed an architect on the board who understood real ruthless ambition. I gave you what Nora was too fragile to offer.”
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Julian threw the black folder onto the floor. Bank records, wire transfers, and forged proxy agreements scattered across the plush rug.
“Nora didn’t run because of a broken heart,” Julian choked out, the horrifying realization crushing his chest. “She ran because she knows you two killed her father’s legacy. And she has the evidence to put you both in federal prison.”
