Chapter 8 - The Morning After
By 7:30 AM the next morning, the video recorded by one of the party guests—showing Arthur Sterling kneeling on the concrete while Julian shivered in the pool—had already leaked across every private finance group chat in Manhattan and Los Angeles.
Julian sat in his penthouse living room, staring blankly at the glass coffee table. His phone was dead, but the messages on his laptop were chiming continuously.
Headline: Sterling Development Restructures Executive Board Following Midnight Scandal.
Email from Board of Directors: Notification of Immediate Termination and Revocation of Trust Benefits.
The door to the penthouse swung open with a bang. Arthur walked in, his eyes bloodshot, carrying a single cardboard box.
"Pack your personal belongings," Arthur said, his voice completely flat.
Julian looked up, panic flaring in his eyes. "Dad, come on. We can fight this. We have lawyers—"
"Lawyers?" Arthur gave a hollow, broken laugh. "Julian, you idiot. Vance owns the bank that holds our primary operating loans. He called the note due at 7:00 AM. I had to sign over forty percent of our commercial equity and give your entire project to Clara just to keep the firm out of bankruptcy."
"Dad..."
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"You're done, Julian," Arthur said coldly, tossing the empty box onto the sofa. "The lease on this penthouse is cancelled. Your credit cards are frozen. I bought you a one-way ticket to your uncle’s farm in Idaho. You start at the grain elevator on Monday."
Julian stood up, his mouth open, but no words came out. For the first time in his life, the safety net was gone.
