THE DISCARDED CEO

Bab 3 - The Hidden Billionaire

The headlights of the three Rolls-Royce Phantoms cut through the darkness like a visual assault against the rain-soaked streets of San Francisco. Their brilliant white xenon beams sliced through the curtain of water, forcing Julian to narrow his eyes ever so slightly.

He remained exactly where he was.

His shoes were still half-submerged in the muddy puddle Evelyn had left behind as her final "gift," making him seem like the calm center of gravity amid the storm's relentless roar.

There was no panic in him.

Instead, a cold certainty slowly spread through his chest.

Julian had been waiting for this day for ten years.

Truthfully, he had hoped it would never come to this.

But Arthur and Evelyn had just handed him a free ticket to become who he truly was.

The rear door of the center car swung open.

Its movement was deliberate, slow, and flawlessly precise.

A moment later, a middle-aged man with neatly combed silver hair stepped out. Though the rain poured as if the heavens themselves had burst open, he showed no urgency. Another attendant from the lead vehicle hurried forward, unfolding a large black umbrella woven from a specialized fabric that shed every raindrop the instant it landed.

Thomas Vance.

He wore a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, accented by a burgundy silk pocket square.

The moment he stopped two yards in front of Julian, he bent into a flawless ninety-degree bow, a gesture reserved for only one sovereign within the Vance family.

"Young Master."

His voice was calm and deep, carrying an authority that seemed capable of silencing even the storm.

"The retrieval has been completed according to protocol. My apologies for arriving three minutes behind schedule due to the weather."

"Stand up, Thomas," Julian said quietly. "You're making the rainwater on this sidewalk feel embarrassed by comparison."

His voice no longer belonged to Julian Miller, the adopted son who used to ask permission before speaking.

It carried effortless authority.

Thomas straightened immediately.

An attendant handed him a long black cashmere overcoat, and he stepped forward in one smooth motion.

"The temperature is below seasonal norms, Young Master. A simple cotton jacket is no place for a man like you."

Julian offered no objection.

He allowed Thomas to drape the coat over his shoulders.

The warmth of the fine cashmere instantly sealed out the cold. Its comforting weight and the faint scent of sandalwood, the signature fragrance of the Vance estate, felt like coming home after a journey that had lasted far too long.

"Thomas," Julian said as he adjusted the lapels.

"Yes, Young Master?"

"I left my watch and my keys in the Palace Hotel ballroom." Julian looked at his own reflection in the polished bodywork of the Rolls-Royce. "And a woman just threw her cheap ring at my feet."

Thomas glanced briefly toward the muddy puddle.

There was no anger in his expression.

Only something far more unsettling.

Cold contempt for anyone who dared treat his master that way.

"Anything touched by mud is beneath your hands, Young Master. If you wish, I'll have the sanitation division burn this stretch of pavement as well."

A faint smile crossed Julian's face.

It was the kind of smile that carried danger.

"That won't be necessary. Let's go inside. The air out here is becoming... beneath me."

"As you wish, Young Master."

Thomas personally opened the rear door of the Phantom.

The moment the vacuum-sealed door closed, silence enveloped the cabin.

The roar of the rain.

The biting San Francisco cold.

The sting of humiliation.

All of it vanished behind reinforced steel.

Inside, the climate was perfectly controlled.

Above them, the Starlight Headliner shimmered with an artificial constellation that glowed softly across the ceiling.

Julian settled into the premium leather seat, feeling its massage system automatically adjust to the contours of his body.

Thomas sat opposite him in the spacious rear cabin.

His back remained perfectly straight, never touching the seat.

The posture of absolute service.

"The final transfer-of-authority documents are ready on your tablet, Young Master. As of this moment, you are no longer operating from the shadows. Apex Capital, control of the entire West Coast logistics network through Thorne Industries, and all of our concealed investments within the Miller Group are once again under your direct command."

Julian accepted the titanium tablet.

His finger swept across the screen.

The figures displayed enough zeros to swallow an entire city if he chose.

For years, he had devoted only ten percent, only ten percent, of his private holdings to making Arthur Miller appear like a financial genius before the public.

"How interesting," Julian murmured while studying Sterling Group's financial projections, which had suddenly surged because of the fraudulent steel guarantee.

"So they're celebrating."

"Yes, Young Master. According to our satellite surveillance, Christian Miller initiated communications at an illegal bar near Pier Twenty-Four approximately twenty-four minutes ago. As for Miss Evelyn Sterling, she appears convinced she's made the smartest business move of the century."

Julian locked the screen and handed the tablet back.

"I want silence to close in around them gradually. But not complete silence. Let them enjoy their false hope a little longer."

"Understood. What are your primary operational orders for the first hour?"

"Turn off every ventilator we've been keeping them alive with."

His voice grew noticeably sharper.

"Thomas, withdraw every hidden Vance fund disguised as foreign investment from the Miller Group. I don't care what excuses Bank of America comes up with afterward. Have them call every outstanding loan due immediately. Drain their liquidity to the last drop."

"At once."

Thomas tapped several icons across his control tablet with the effortless precision of an expert operator.

"Shall we release Thorne Industries?"

Julian turned toward the rain-streaked window.

"Let Raymond Thorne do what he does best. Tell him to save his surprise for the auction. Give him full authority to devour anyone reckless enough to invoke the Vance name."

He paused.

"And one more thing."

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Make sure the financial courts begin monitoring the fraudulent investment scheme my beloved former fiancée is signing tomorrow morning. Help that coward Christian drag his new lover even deeper into the pit. Let them destroy each other inside the cage they built together."

Julian closed his eyes.

The Rolls-Royce convoy glided smoothly through the rain, leaving the Palace Hotel farther behind with every passing minute.

He could almost picture Arthur laughing as he raised one last glass of champagne that night.

He could also picture Evelyn's eyes filling with hopeless tears when she finally realized her precious steel contract was nothing but worthless paper backed by nothing at all.

About ten minutes into the silent drive, Thomas's phone chimed softly.

"Young Master," he said in a measured tone, "the first analysis has arrived. Following the global withdrawal by our affiliates, the Miller Group's internal valuation has already fallen by seventy million dollars before the close of London's pre-market session. Based on current projections, Arthur will wake tomorrow morning financially half-paralyzed."

"It's still too early for that, Thomas," Julian replied calmly. "They haven't even been served the appetizer."

His thoughts drifted back to Evelyn's final words.

You're nothing but a parasite.

"A parasite..."

He barely realized he had spoken the word aloud.

Once, he had believed dedicating himself to the company and dimming his own brilliance for the sake of his "father" was how he could repay an old debt.

Instead, Arthur had seen kindness as nothing more than a weakness to exploit.

And Christian...

Nothing but a crow wrapped in robes of gold that had never belonged to him.

"Call our media advisers," Julian said. "Start planting whispers on Wall Street. Tell them an unnamed entity called Apex has begun choosing its enemies. Leave the Vance name out of it for now."

A faint smile returned.

"I want to watch their arrogant faces when they sneak through the back doors of banks begging for credit in the middle of the storm."

The convoy eventually passed through the gates of the Ritz-Carlton under increasingly tight security.

The doors opened.

A red carpet appeared before Julian the moment he stepped out.

Every member of the hotel's staff bowed as far as the eye could see, as though welcoming a sovereign whose presence alone commanded reverence.

The coming week would be about far more than business.

Julian accepted a crystal glass in the executive lounge and lifted his chin toward the glittering city skyline beyond the windows.

One chapter had ended.

Now was no longer the time to protect anyone else.

"The world has just turned," he murmured to the crystal pane as condensation slowly spread across its surface.

Julian was no longer part of Arthur Miller's downfall.

Here, he was simply Julian Vance.

The hidden ruler who had decided the Miller family no longer deserved to breathe with the oxygen supplied by his capital.

Thomas had already secured every safeguard around the coming financial storm, ready to unleash it the moment dawn touched the horizon.

One by one...

Arthur's first domino had been placed with meticulous care.

Julian took another slow sip from his glass and waited for the clock to strike tomorrow.

Tomorrow would mark the beginning of a bankruptcy that no tears of forgiveness could ever undo.