CARA’S POV The lobby of the St.
Jude Hotel was suffocatingly and surprisingly quiet at eleven forty-one in the morning.
Soft, amber lighting washed over polished marble, and the low hum of a fountain near the entrance did nothing to calm the nervous knot tightening in my stomach.
I kept my hands buried deep in the pockets of my coat, my fingers tightly gripping the corner of Julian’s business card.
I hated that I was here with every fiber of my being.
I hated the fact that after everything this motherfucking Julian has done, after the betrayal, the slaps, the years of quiet resentment, he still claimed to hold a piece of information I couldn’t afford to ignore.
The elevator ride to the fourth floor felt agonizingly slow.
When the doors finally slid open, the carpeted hallway stretched out in silent, monotonous rows.
I stopped outside Room 412, took a slow breath, and knocked hard three times.
Footsteps approached from the other side.
The latch clicked, and the door swung open.
Julian stood in the doorway, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his hair messy, as if he had spent the last couple of hours pacing the room instead of resting.
The moment his eyes landed on me, his tense posture gave way to sheer relief.
“Cara,” he breathed, stepping back.
“You actually came.
I’m really glad to see you.” “I’m not here to socialize, Julian,” I said, stepping past him into the suite before I could talk myself out of it.
The room was quiet, a leather garment bag laid out on the luggage rack and a glass of scotch sitting on the desk beside a stack of printed papers.
Wasn’t it too early to be drinking scotch?
Argh, what do I care about if he drinks himself into oblivion?!
Julian closed the door, turning to face me.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” “Neither did I,” I replied, keeping my coat on and standing near the center of the room.
“But you said you had information about my father.
If this is just another attempt to talk about us, I’m walking out right now.” Julian held up his hands defensively.
“It’s not a trick, Cara.
I promise.” He walked over to the desk, picked up a thick manila envelope, and held it out toward me.
I hesitated before snatching it from his grip, careful not to let our fingers touch.
“What is this?” “Your father’s hidden accounts,” Julian said, leaning against the edge of the desk.
“Before his firm went under investigation, he managed to funnel a massive amount of liquid cash into an untraceable offshore account in the Caymans.
We’re talking millions.” I stared down at the bank statements, a surge of deep frustration washing over me.
A fit of regret pulling at my chest.
“Great,” I said, my voice dripping with bitter disappointment.
“More evidence of my father’s financial crimes.
Mr.
Vance, Aunt Val’s lawyer, literally just told us an hour ago that white-collar fraud doesn’t matter to a family court judge.
This doesn’t help Danny at all, Julian.” “Listen to me, Cara,” Julian said quickly, taking a half-step forward.
“You’re missing the whole point.
He isn’t holding onto that cash to buy a boat.
He’s desperate.
His assets are frozen here, but he has access to millions in untraceable offshore money right now.” I frowned, looking up from the paper glaring at him.
“Meaning what?” “Meaning he knows he can’t win a legitimate custody battle against your aunt,” Julian said, his eyes dead serious.
“He’s going to use that money to bribe the family court judge.
Or buy off the court-appointed evaluators.
He has enough liquid cash to pay off whoever he needs to make that emergency custody order happen overnight.” The room seemed to grow cold.
The sheer sleaziness of it felt entirely like my father.
Corrupt in every way possible.
“Do you really think he’d do that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Just straight-up bribe a judge?” “In a heartbeat,” Julian said flatly.
“He’s cornered, Cara.
He thinks money fixes everything.” I stared at the offshore account numbers in my hand, a dark, sharp idea suddenly taking root in my mind.
“If he’s that desperate…” I looked up at Julian, my pulse quickening.
“What if we let him try?” Julian blinked, caught off guard.
“What?” “If he tries to bribe a family court judge, he’s committing a felony in real-time,” I said, the plan forming rapidly.
“He thinks he’s being discreet, but if Vance knows about this account, we can flag it.
We can set a trap.
The second he moves that money to buy off an official, we catch him slipping up.
We hit him with active judicial corruption right in the middle of the custody hearing.” Julian stared at me for a second, a faint, impressed look crossing his face.
“That…
actually might work.
If he gets caught attempting to bribe a judge during a custody dispute, no court in the country will let him near Danny.” “It’s the only way to kill his claim for good,” I murmured, clutching the envelope tight against my chest.
A heavy silence settled between us.
Julian looked at me, his eyes softening as the adrenaline of the realization faded.
“I know I destroyed your trust, Cara,” he said quietly, his tone dropping into something raw.
“I know I ruined us, and I can’t take back what I did with Grace.
But I wanted you to have this leverage.
I wanted to make sure your dad couldn’t hurt you or Danny again.” I looked at him standing there—tired, remorseful, and holding the key to saving my brother.
The anger was still there, but beneath it was just a profound exhaustion.
“Thank you, Julian,” I said softly.
“This…
this actually gives us a fighting chance.” He offered a sad, tight nod.
“Just be careful, Cara.
If your dad realizes you’re setting a trap, he’s going to lose what little control he has left.” “I know,” I said.
Turning on my heel, I pulled open the heavy suite door and stepped out into the quiet hallway, the envelope sealed tightly in my hands as the lock clicked shut behind me.
As I headed toward the elevator, I spotted one of my bodyguards standing near the far end of the hallway, pretending to study his phone.
I almost rolled my eyes.
They weren’t even discreet enough to pretend they weren’t following me.
I kept my hands buried deep in the pockets of my coat, my fingers tightly gripping the corner of Julian’s business card.