Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Family
I stared at the glowing screen of Harrison’s phone as my brother’s name flashed continuously.
Julian was six years younger than me. Growing up, I had done everything in my power to protect him, mentor him, and secure his future. When our parents passed away, I gave Julian a fifteen-percent non-voting stake in my parent holding company and set up a generous monthly stipend that allowed him to live in a luxury penthouse in West Hollywood without ever having to work a sixty-hour week.
Yet here was his name, ringing on the private phone of my corrupt estate manager at the exact moment a theft scheme was uncovered.
I answered the call and pressed the speaker button, keeping my eyes fixed on Harrison, who looked as if he were about to faint.
"Harrison!" Julian’s frantic voice exploded through the small speaker. "Did you clear out the August payroll allocation yet?! I need another fifty grand wired to the offshore account immediately! The broker in Macau is threatening to freeze my credit line by midnight!"
The silence in my office was suffocating.
Harrison swallowed hard, unable to speak, his eyes wide with terror.
"Harrison?!" Julian barked again. "Are you listening to me? Make sure you tell my idiot brother that the staff is demanding a raise so he doesn't question the extra withdrawal from the reserve account! He’s so wrapped up in his precious international deals he won't even notice!"
I took a slow, deep breath, holding back the burning rage rising in my chest.
"I noticed, Julian," I said softly into the microphone.
The line went dead silent.
"G-Graham?" Julian’s voice cracked, every ounce of his arrogant posture instantly evaporating into pure panic. "Graham... why do you have Harrison’s phone?"
"Get over to the estate right now," I said, my tone flat and unyielding. "You have twenty minutes. If you aren't standing in this office by then, the police will be waiting at your penthouse door."
I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk.
Harrison dropped to his knees, his hands clasped together in desperate plea. "Mr. Vance! Please! It was your brother’s idea! Julian owed millions in gambling debts overseas! He told me if I didn't route the domestic payroll through his shell company, he’d have me fired and ruined in this city! I was just following his orders!"
"You stole from a mother who works sixteen hours a day to feed her child," I said, looking down at him with utter disgust. "You allowed her to face eviction while you wore designer suits in my house."
I picked up my desk phone and called my chief of security, Marcus, a former federal agent who managed my personal protection detail.
"Marcus," I ordered. "Bring two officers to my office. Put Mr. Harrison in the security suite downstairs, seize his laptop, his phone, and all estate keys. Nobody leaves the premises."
Within two minutes, Marcus and his team escorted the weeping estate manager away.
I sat back down at my desk, my mind racing. The financial betrayal was sickening, but what hurt far deeper was the realization that my own brother—the man I had cared for like a son—had spent months preying on the most vulnerable people in my home just to cover his reckless lifestyle.
I pulled out my personal checkbook from the top drawer.
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I wrote out a certified cashier’s check for $25,000—covering Rosa’s three months of stolen salary, plus a substantial bonus for her suffering—and filled out a second check for each member of the household staff to ensure every single person was made whole immediately.
Holding the checks in my hand, I walked back out toward the marble hallway where Rosa and little Camila were still waiting.
