The hotel's private executive lounge was sealed shut ten minutes later. Clara sat on a velvet armchair, holding Daisy close while Julian sat with his leg propped up on an ottoman, the disabled brace resting beside him on a towel.
The heavy oak double doors flew open, and Carter Vance walked in, wearing an expensive tailored suit and holding a glass of iced scotch.
Carter: What is all this ridiculous commotion, Julian? The security guards wouldn't let my driver leave the garage.
Julian: Sit down, Carter.
Carter: Excuse me? I have a board meeting across town regarding our father's commercial trust fund. I don't have time for hospital theatrics.
Julian: I said sit down.
Carter scoffed, glancing around the room with disgust, his eyes stopping on the trembling maid and her daughter.
Carter: Why is the cleaning staff sitting in the VIP lounge? Did one of them steal your gold watch?
Daisy: That's him!
The little girl suddenly stood up on the sofa, pointing straight at Carter's chest.
Daisy: Mommy, that's the man with the shiny car!
Carter froze mid-stride, his glass rattling against his ice cubes.
Carter: What did that brat just say?
Clara: Daisy, hush sweetie—
Julian: Let her speak, Clara. Daisy, look at him carefully. Is that the man you saw near my brace?
Daisy: He had the black gloves in his coat pocket! He gave the driver a brown envelope and told him to go buy coffee!
Carter: This is absurd! You're listening to the hallucinations of a filthy maid's toddler?
Julian: Show me your hands, Carter.
Carter: What?
Julian: Put your hands on the table. Both of them.
Carter slowly set his drink down, his jaw twitching as he forced a dry, arrogant laugh.
Carter: You've become completely paranoid since the accident, brother. Ever since Dad named you the sole executor of the family estate, you think everyone is out to murder you.
Julian: Pull your left coat pocket inside out.
Carter: I will do no such thing.
Julian nodded toward the door. Two armed estate security officers stepped inside, blocking the exit.
Julian: Either you pull it out, or Mark takes it out. Your choice, little brother.
Carter swallowed hard, his arrogant smirk melting into cold dread as he reached inside his designer suit coat.
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