Chapter 8
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Julian woke up to the sound of a blaring garbage truck violently emptying a dumpster right outside his cheap motel window. He groaned, his head pounding with a massive, agonizing hangover of stress and exhaustion. His expensive Italian suit was ruined, deeply wrinkled, and smelling faintly of mildew from the damp room.
He sat up on the lumpy mattress, his reality crashing down on him with the force of a freight train. He was broke, homeless, and under federal investigation.
But Julian’s arrogance was a terminal disease. He refused to accept defeat. He convinced himself that the board of directors, the men he had manipulated and bullied for years, would never actually dare to terminate him. He still owned forty percent of the company in his mind.
He splashed cold, rusty water on his face in the tiny bathroom, tried to smooth down his hair, and walked out into the morning sun. He spent his last five dollars on a bus ticket that dropped him three blocks away from the towering, glass-and-steel Vance corporate headquarters in downtown Manhattan.
Julian marched through the revolving doors of the grand lobby, trying to project his usual terrifying aura of absolute authority. He walked directly toward the private executive elevators, ignoring the stares of the lower-level employees in the lobby.
"Excuse me, Mr. Vance," a firm voice called out.
Julian turned to see the head of building security, a massive man named Marcus, stepping directly into his path. Marcus was flanked by two other muscular guards.
"Get out of my way, Marcus," Julian snapped, attempting to push past him. "I have an emergency board meeting to run. Somebody made a massive clerical error with my accounts yesterday."
"There is no error, sir," Marcus replied, standing completely immovable. "My orders come directly from the board of directors. Your executive keycard has been deactivated. You are no longer an employee of this firm, and you are permanently banned from the premises."
"I own forty percent of this building!" Julian roared, his face turning a dangerous, volatile shade of red. "You cannot ban me from my own company!"
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"Your shares are currently seized under a federal indictment for embezzlement, Mr. Vance," Marcus stated coldly, entirely unfazed by Julian's screaming. "You own absolutely nothing. Now, you can turn around and walk out those revolving doors, or my men will physically throw you onto the pavement. The choice is entirely yours."
Julian looked around the lobby. Dozens of employees were watching him, recording his humiliating breakdown on their smartphones. The absolute realization that he had completely lost his empire finally broke his spirit. He turned and walked out the door.
