Chapter 11 - Face to Face
Julian stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the man sitting on the opposite side of the glass. The guard shoved him gently into the metal chair, secured his waist chain to the floor anchor, and stepped back to stand near the door.
Julian slowly picked up the plastic telephone receiver attached to the wall. His knuckles were white.
Arthur picked up his receiver on his side of the glass. He wore a simple black sweater, looking remarkably relaxed, his graying hair neatly groomed. His calm demeanor was an unbearable contrast to Julian's orange prison jumpsuit.
"You came to gloat," Julian spat into the receiver, his voice tight with venom. "You came to see me in a cage."
"I don't need to gloat, Julian," Arthur replied softly, his voice clear through the small speaker. "I came to deliver a message from Clara."
Julian’s eyes narrowed. "Clara is a traitor. She destroyed this family. She ruined everything."
"You ruined yourself the moment you thought power gave you the right to treat another human being like property," Arthur said coldly. "Clara has signed the divorce papers. She has reclaimed her maiden name. And as of nine o'clock this morning, the family court granted her full, unencumbered sole custody of her unborn child."
Julian slammed his free hand against the plexiglass partition. "That's my heir! That child carries the Sterling bloodline! You can't keep my child from me!"
"That child will never know your name," Arthur said, his voice unyielding as iron. "That child will grow up on a quiet farm in Vermont, surrounded by people who love them, far away from your disease. They will never see your face. They will never hear your voice."
Julian leaned close to the glass, his breath fogging the clear surface. "I’ll get out of here, Arthur. I have money. I have connections. In five years, ten years... I will come for her. I will come for both of you."
Arthur stared at Julian for a long moment. There was no fear in Arthur's eyes—only a deep, terrifying certainty.
"You're facing thirty years in a federal penitentiary without the possibility of parole, Julian," Arthur whispered into the phone. "And if by some miracle you ever walk out of those gates... I will be waiting for you. And next time, there won't be any cameras. There won't be any police. There will only be me."
May you like
Arthur hung up the receiver, set it neatly back on its hook, stood up, and walked out of the room without looking back.
Julian screamed into his dead phone, slamming it repeatedly against the partition until the guards tackled him to the floor.
