CHAPTER 3 — THE BROTHER’S BETRAYAL

Evelyn ran through the second exit.

An officer fired, but the bullet struck the wooden frame beside her head.

Julian lunged at Sebastian.

He grabbed his brother by the lapels and slammed him against the wall.

“You knew she was alive.”

Sebastian smiled despite the pressure against his throat.

“I knew you’d choose her over reason.”

Julian tightened his grip.

“Where is our father?”

“You really don’t understand anything, do you?”

The officers pulled Julian away.

Sebastian straightened his tuxedo.

“All your life, Father gave you everything.”

“He trained me to run the company.”

“He trained you to be its face.”

Sebastian leaned closer.

“I ran the parts you were never strong enough to see.”

Julian was handcuffed.

Downstairs, the gala guests watched as he was marched across the ballroom.

Some looked shocked.

Others looked relieved.

On the stage, a giant screen suddenly turned on.

Julian’s face appeared above the crowd.

Then financial records filled the display.

Wire transfers.

Hidden accounts.

Encrypted messages.

Every document carried Julian’s digital signature.

Sebastian walked onto the stage.

“My brother has betrayed every investor, employee, and institution that trusted him,” he announced.

The audience murmured.

Julian stared at the screen.

The documents looked authentic.

Too authentic.

Sebastian continued.

“For years, I tried to stop him privately. Tonight, I finally chose the truth over blood.”

Applause began near the back of the ballroom.

One person.

Then another.

Soon, half the room was clapping.

Julian watched men he had made rich celebrate his destruction.

Sebastian lifted his champagne glass.

“Ashford Capital will survive this betrayal.”

Julian looked toward the table where Mara had fallen.

She was gone, taken for emergency treatment.

But a small streak of blood remained on the marble.

As the officers led him toward the exit, Julian heard a woman’s voice behind him.

“Mr. Ashford.”

It was Clara Bennett, the Astor Syndicate’s seventy-year-old chairwoman.

She had controlled the syndicate longer than Julian had been alive.

She approached with a silver cane.

“Your father always said you were too sentimental.”

Julian stopped.

“You knew he was alive.”

Clara smiled faintly.

“I know where every body is buried.”

Sebastian appeared beside her.

“Take him away.”

Clara raised one finger.

“Not yet.”

She moved close to Julian and quietly slipped something into his hand.

A tiny brass key.

Then she whispered, “Midnight. Vault Seven.”

Julian stared at her.

“Why help me?”

Her smile disappeared.

“Because Conrad has decided none of us are useful anymore.”

She stepped away.

The officers pushed Julian forward.

Outside, news cameras had already gathered behind police barriers, even though public media had supposedly been banned from the event.

The arrest had been planned.

Every angle.

Every headline.

Every humiliation.

As Julian entered the federal vehicle, Sebastian stood at the ballroom entrance and watched.

Julian raised his cuffed hands.

Inside one fist, he held the key.

Inside the other, he still held the photograph of his supposedly dead father.

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And on the back of that photograph, Evelyn had written four words:

YOUR MOTHER WAS MURDERED.