THE DISCARDED CEO

Bab 8 - The DNA Twist

The four meter stained glass windows of Julian's suite at the Ritz Carlton reflected the glittering skyline of San Francisco, yet the room itself felt as cold as a tomb. A black marble table held a leather document folder sealed with the silver wax crest of the Vance family.

Julian stood motionless by the window. His hand remained buried in his trouser pocket, clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He had just heard something even more devastating than the collapse of Miller Group.

"Say it again, Thomas."

Julian's voice was barely more than a whisper carried through an air vent. Quiet, but heavy with restrained menace.

Thomas Vance, the family's chief steward, wasted no time. He opened the folder, expertly flipping through pages of advanced DNA test results and faded copies of decades-old hospital records.

"These are the results of a high-level forensic DNA analysis, Young Master," Thomas said, maintaining his formal composure despite the sympathy in his voice. "One sample came from your childhood medical records, and the other was taken from the preserved genetic material of the late Arthur Vance, the original patriarch of the Vance family. The match is 99.99 percent."

Julian slowly turned his head. His eyes held no emotion now. They were nothing but cold fractures waiting to shatter the world.

"Arthur Miller... he switched us on purpose?"

"Not only did he switch you, Young Master."

Thomas slid a faded letter across the table. The ink had nearly disappeared with age, but the signature remained unmistakable.

"These hospital records reveal a carefully orchestrated crime. At the time, Arthur Miller worked as an administrative officer for the Vance Family Foundation. Mrs. Miller had just given birth to a premature baby who died shortly after delivery, in the very same hospital where you were born."

"He took me home instead of his dead child?"

Julian laughed.

Not a trace of amusement reached his eyes.

It was the laugh of a man who had just discovered that the hell he had lived through was the product of a sociopath's meticulous design.

"Yes. Arthur took you home so he could claim the future protection fund established by the Vance Foundation for its rightful heir. At the same time, he siphoned off the foundation's initial investment capital to finance his own startup company. By raising you as the 'surviving son' while treating you as nothing more than a servant and a tool, he destroyed your confidence so you would never investigate your true identity."

Julian strode to the table and snatched up the documents. His eyes raced over every line of evidence that had remained buried beneath the shadow of Miller Group for decades.

There was no longer any room for doubt.

The years of exploitation. Christian's constant humiliation. His expulsion from the ballroom the night before.

None of it had simply been the dysfunction of a broken family.

It had all been part of a calculated effort to erase the living proof that Arthur Miller had built his entire life upon an unforgivable crime.

"He didn't throw me away because the Oakland project failed."

Julian spoke to himself, his voice hardening into steel.

"He got rid of me because I had become too visible. And maybe... maybe he was afraid. Afraid that one day the truth buried in that Portland hospital would come back to haunt him."

"You're exactly right, Young Master."

Thomas gave a respectful nod.

"Arthur always knew you were the rightful heir to the Vance family. That's why he made certain you never had access to any network of wealth capable of tracing your real surname. To him, you were nothing more than company property. Something to use until it wore out, then throw away."

Silence settled over the room.

The only sound was the rustle of paper as Julian tossed the documents back onto the table.

He walked to the private bar, poured himself a glass of whiskey without ice, and drained it in one swallow.

The burning liquid felt like fuel poured directly onto the fire of his vengeance.

Before today, his anger had belonged to an adopted son betrayed by the family he had devoted himself to.

Now it belonged to a king who had discovered that his crown had been stolen while he was still lying in a cradle.

"Arthur surrendered his life to greed."

Julian turned around.

"He thought he'd won the lottery when he stole the wrong baby and turned him into a servant for his company. What he never realized was that he was raising the very serpent that would one day devour his entire family from the roots up."

"What are your orders, Young Master?" Thomas asked.

Julian walked slowly toward the electric fireplace, its crimson glow flickering across the room.

He picked up a silver lighter, ignited it, and held the corner of one of the forged documents detailing the infant swap over the flame.

Blue fire licked the paper.

Its edge curled inward and blackened.

"He wanted the logistics contract. He wanted prestige. Honor before San Francisco's elite."

Julian dropped the burning page onto a ceramic tray. Thin gray ash drifted lazily into the air.

"Let him enjoy one more night of victory. I want him to wake tomorrow morning, open the news, and realize that everything, his career, his company, his name, and every filthy secret he's hidden, is about to be broadcast to the public in the most devastating way imaginable."

"And Christian?" Thomas asked.

"Christian is just another tool," Julian replied. "Don't touch him yet. Let him enjoy inheriting the Miller legacy while it's being liquidated beneath his feet. When the DNA results become public, I want him trapped somewhere with nowhere left to run. I want to see his face when he realizes he spent years deceiving everyone to seize a company that was already a sinking ship."

Thomas lowered his head.

"It will be done. I'll make sure every major media outlet in America receives the appropriate information package within the next twenty-four hours."

Julian stared at his own reflection in the dark glass beyond the balcony.

There was no pain left in his eyes.

Only a blazing fire that promised to consume every trace of the Miller name in the business world until nothing remained but broken ruins and forgotten history.

"He thought he threw away a discarded son," Julian whispered, a chilling smile spreading across his face.

"But all he really did was cast off the last chain that restrained me from destroying his house from within. Sleep well tonight, Arthur. Because tomorrow's dawn will mark the end of everything."

The grandfather clock in the sitting room chimed once, announcing the beginning of the long night awaiting the Miller family, a night that led only toward the tolling of their own funeral bell.

High above the city, Julian Vance no longer stood as a man seeking validation.

He was the storm that had come to reclaim what had been stolen from his bloodline through betrayal, tears, and a crime that could never be forgiven.

What happened in Portland had never been a simple hospital incident.

It was an indictment waiting for its day in court.

And that night, Julian burned away the last remnants of his mercy in the fire, leaving behind an empty space that would soon be filled by only one thing.

The complete destruction of the family that had never truly been his from the very day they stole him away and called him a Miller.