Chapter 22 - The Fall of Julian Croft
Julian’s face twisted into an expression of sheer, unadulterated panic. The arrogant veneer shattered into a million pieces. "No... no! You're lying! Sebastian, tell your guards to kill them! Take the documents!"
Sebastian looked at Julian, then looked at the federal agents who were now drawing their weapons, and slowly took a step back toward the fireplace. "I do not know this man," Sebastian said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion. "He forced his way into my residence claiming to be my late brother's estate executor. I demand he be removed from my property immediately."
"You bastard!" Julian screamed, lunging toward Sebastian with clenched fists. "I spent fourteen years ruining my life for you! I married that pathetic woman, I endured her, I destroyed her business for you! You promised me five hundred million!"
A federal agent closed the distance in two swift strides, sweeping Julian’s legs out from under him and driving him face-first into the cold marble floor.
The sound of Julian’s face hitting the stone echoed through the grand room. He groaned, thrashing violently as heavy steel cuffs snapped around his wrists with a sickening click.
I walked over to where Julian lay pinned against the floor. For fourteen years, I had looked up at him from my knees, trembling in fear while he raised his hand or sneered down at me. Now, the roles were permanently reversed.
I crouched down, meeting his bloodshot, terrified eyes.
"Do you remember what you said to me the day you cut off my hair, Julian?" I asked, my voice calm, icy, and completely devoid of pity. "You told me that without you, I was nothing. You told me I was just a frightened little girl who would crawl back to you on my hands and knees."
Julian spat blood onto the marble, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "Elena... please... we were married... fourteen years... you loved me once..."
"I loved a monster wearing a mask," I replied, standing up straight and turning my back on him. "Take him away. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life counting the bars of a Swiss federal cell."
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As the agents dragged Julian kicking and screaming out of the grand salon, the room fell silent once again. Sebastian Saint-Germain stood frozen by the fireplace, an old, defeated conspirator whose empire had just slipped through his withered fingers.
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