Chapter 8 - The Swiss Reckoning
Julian stumbled backward over an expensive Persian rug, landing hard on his hands and knees against the stone hearth of the fireplace.
“It wasn't my idea! It was Elena!” Julian shrieked, his voice cracking with pure terror as he scrambled away from David, pressing his back against the cold bricks of the chimney. “She came to me! She said you were impossible to divorce without losing half your estate! She planned the whole thing—the poison, the fake death, the burial timeline! I just helped her set up the offshore shell company!”
David walked slowly across the room, his footsteps echoing in the high-ceilinged chalet. He stopped two feet in front of Julian, looking down at the squirming coward with infinite disdain.
“I know Elena planned it,” David said quietly. “And she’s currently confessing to federal prosecutors in a maximum-security holding cell in New York, where she will spend the next thirty years reflecting on her choices.”
David crouched down, bringing his face level with Julian’s sweat-slicked forehead.
“But you, Julian... you funded the logistics. You provided the corporate backing for Apex Medical to supply the paralytic compound. You thought you could hide behind your Swiss bank accounts and your mountain chalets while my little daughter suffocated under three feet of dirt.”
“Please!” Julian sobbed, raising his hands in frantic self-defense. “Take all my money! Take the accounts in Zurich! Take the real estate portfolio in London! I’ll sign over everything I own right now! Just don't kill me!”
David stood up slowly, dusting off his knees. He looked over at Marcus.
“Hand me the briefcase.”
Marcus stepped forward, handing David a sleek titanium briefcase. David popped the dual combination latches and flipped it open.
Inside weren't weapons. Inside were dense stacks of legal documents, complete with pre-printed signature lines and red notary stamps.
“I don't want your money, Julian,” David said coldly, tossing the heavy briefcase onto Thorne’s lap. “Money is too easy to replace. What I want is total, unconditional corporate forfeiture.”
Julian stared down at the documents, his eyes darting frantically across the text. Global Asset Transfer Deed. Complete Liquidation of Apex Medical Holdings. Unconditional Surrender of Intellectual Property Rights to Vance Industries.
“This... this leaves me with nothing,” Julian whispered, staring up in horror. “I’ll be bankrupt. I won't even be able to buy a cup of coffee in this country.”
“Then you’ll experience what it feels like to have your entire world stripped away in a single night,” David replied, his voice devoid of mercy. “Sign every page. Initial every clause. Or my men will take you out into these sub-zero mountains, tie you to a tree, and let the snow bury you the way you tried to bury my daughter.”
May you like
Julian didn't hesitate for another second. He grabbed a gold-plated fountain pen from the coffee table and began scribbling his signature across the bottom of the documents with frantic, sobbing desperation, his hands shaking so badly he tore the corner of the final page.
David watched him sign away his entire empire without a shred of pity.
