Chapter 6 - The Rooftop
Rain swept across the rooftop in silver sheets.
The helicopter platform lights glowed through the darkness, but no helicopter was waiting.
Julian had lied.
There had never been an escape plan.
My father lay beside the rooftop railing, one hand pressed against his shoulder. Blood darkened his white shirt.
Julian stood behind him with the gun.
“You came,” he said when he saw me.
Henderson and his men remained inside the stairwell, hidden from Julian’s view.
I stepped onto the roof alone.
“Let him go.”
“Your father took everything from my family.”
“My father saved your family.”
“He humiliated us.”
“Your grandfather used defective materials. He could have gone to prison.”
“He built Sterling Industries with Arthur.”
“And then he nearly destroyed it.”
Julian’s face twisted.
“You sound just like him.”
“No. I spent years trying not to sound like him. That was how you controlled me.”
My father struggled to sit up.
“Clare, go back inside.”
Julian struck him across the face.
“Be quiet.”
I forced myself not to react.
Julian fed on fear.
For years, every flinch had convinced him he was powerful.
“You said my father knew what you were before we married,” I said.
Julian smiled.
“He suspected.”
“Grant had reports.”
“Grant had one report from an ex-girlfriend who wanted money.”
“What was her name?”
The question surprised him.
“What?”
“The woman you hurt before me. What was her name?”
“She was nobody.”
“To you, maybe.”
“Clare, stop.”
“Was it Rachel Donovan?”
His eyes changed.
The investigator’s report had mentioned a Rachel. I had seen the name once on a page my father quickly removed from his desk during our engagement.
Julian tightened his grip on the gun.
“She lied.”
“Did she also fall into a glass table?”
“She was unstable.”
“Did she scratch your neck while you choked her?”
“Shut up!”
His shout carried across the rooftop.
Behind the stairwell door, Henderson’s team was recording every word.
I took another step.
“You use the same story every time. The woman is unstable. The bruises are accidents. The documents are misunderstandings. Your mother creates the evidence, your lawyers destroy the truth, and you walk away.”
“You think a recording will save you?”
“No.”
I looked at my father.
“Walking away from you will save me.”
Julian laughed.
“You’ll never walk away. You’re carrying my child.”
My hand rested instinctively on my abdomen.
“This baby will know your name only as a warning.”
His smile vanished.
He raised the gun toward me.
My father drove his shoulder into Julian’s legs.
The weapon fired into the air.
Both men crashed against the wet rooftop.
Henderson’s team rushed through the door.
Julian broke free and ran toward the edge.
There was nowhere to go.
Only forty-eight floors of open air.
“Julian!” I shouted.
He stopped with his shoes against the ledge.
Police weapons surrounded him.
Rain ran down his face.
“You did this,” he said.
“No. You made choices. Now you have to live with them.”
For one terrifying second, I thought he would step backward.
Then Henderson spoke.
“Your mother has been arrested.”
Julian stared at him.
“What?”
“Cecilia Hayes was taken into custody twenty minutes ago. Martin Voss gave officers access to the offshore accounts.”
“My mother would never—”
“She authorized a transfer this morning,” Henderson continued. “Thirty million dollars from your personal account into a private trust under her name.”
Julian’s face emptied.
“She was preparing to abandon you.”
“No.”
“She also arranged the hotel video and planted the medical records. When the plan failed, she intended for you to take responsibility for everything.”
Julian looked at me.
For the first time, he appeared less like a monster and more like a frightened boy who had finally discovered that the person who created him had never loved him.
But pity did not erase what he had done.
He lowered the gun.
An officer moved forward.
Julian suddenly turned and aimed at my father.
Henderson fired once.
The bullet struck Julian in the leg.
He collapsed on the rooftop.
Officers surrounded him, removed the weapon, and secured his hands.
As paramedics rushed toward my father, Julian screamed my name.
Not lovingly.
Not apologetically.
Possessively.
“You belong to me!”
I knelt beside my father.
He was pale, but conscious.
“No,” I said, looking back at the man I had once promised to love. “I never did.”
The paramedics lifted Arthur onto a stretcher.
Before they carried him away, he caught my hand.
“The report,” he whispered.
“What?”
“The report about Julian. It wasn’t inconclusive.”
My heart sank.
My father’s eyes filled with shame.
“I lied to you in the boardroom. I knew what he had done to Rachel.”
I released his hand.
The paramedics rushed him toward the stairwell.
Henderson approached carefully.
“He needs surgery.”
“Then go with him.”
“And you?”
I looked at Julian as officers carried him past me.
May you like
Then I looked at the city my family’s name had towered over for generations.
“I need the whole truth.”
