Nobody had expected that.

Even I stood up in surprise.

Richard stepped in front of his son.

“What department are you from? On what grounds are you arresting him?”

The officer showed his identification.

“Detective Marcus Grant. Financial Crimes Unit. We received a report that your son unlawfully appropriated eight point four billion dollars belonging to another person. We have substantial evidence.”

“Impossible. That money is an investment I secured.”

Julian’s voice rose.

“Someone’s framing me.”

Applause sounded at the door.

Lucian walked in, slowly clapping.

“Remarkable. Witnesses and evidence, and you’re still denying it.”

The moment I saw him, I relaxed.

An inexplicable sense of safety settled over me.

As though with him there, things couldn’t spin out of control.

He wouldn’t disappoint me.

I slapped my face twice.

Wake up.

Whatever satisfaction he took in humiliating Julian, he wasn’t doing this for me.

A man like him followed only his own pleasure.

Julian flushed with fury, right down to his neck.

Then reason returned, and fear overtook it.

“Mr. Blackwood, I know you hate me because I’m Stella’s husband. Since she disappeared, you’ve turned your hostility toward me. But this goes too far. Accusing me of stealing that much money is serious.”

Lucian laughed.

Miles placed a chair behind him.

He sat with complete ease.

His face drew so much attention that I only then noticed what he was wearing.

A proper three-piece suit.

His hair was swept back, exposing the clean lines of his forehead and those deep, sharply defined features.

It made him look even more commanding.

“Not enough courage to admit what you did?” he asked. “Apparently, Stella was the only real man in the Whitmore family.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or groan.

He had insulted Richard, too.

For the record, I had no desire to be a man. There were more than enough heartless, shameless ones already.

Julian forced down his anger.

He turned away from Lucian before his blood pressure could rise any higher.

“Detective Grant, there’s a misunderstanding. An older gentleman named Leo made this investment. He uses the name Mr. L. He gave me the account details.”

Grant produced a stack of documents.

“We checked before coming here. There is no such person.”

“No. That’s impossible.”

Julian’s voice sharpened.

“He’s my wife’s partner in the Starlight Project. They worked together for years. They met privately many times. How can you say he doesn’t exist?”

“Can you prove that?” Grant asked calmly. “Or can your wife come in and confirm it?”

Julian went silent.

How could I testify?

He had had me cut into pieces.

There wasn’t enough left to put back together.

Watching his face turn gray was deeply satisfying.

I only wished I could ask him how it felt to be trapped by his own actions.

Lucian spoke unhurriedly.

“Three days ago, I noticed irregular activity on my account and asked the Swiss bank to freeze the assets. Between the time difference and the required procedures, there was a delay.”

He looked at Julian.

“Before the freeze took effect, the money was transferred out. Into an account under your name.”

To make his achievement even more impressive, Julian hadn’t arranged for the investment to go directly into the company’s account.

He had opened a separate project account in his own name.

Now there was evidence everywhere.

Mr. L didn’t exist.

The money in Julian’s account had come from Lucian’s.

And Julian had spent days publicly boasting that he had personally secured the investment.

Almost everyone in Fairhaven knew it.

He had built the case against himself.

The handcuffs clicked shut.

“Mr. Whitmore,” Grant said, “you’re coming with us for further questioning.”

“My son would never do this.” Richard tried again. “His character is beyond reproach. I guarantee it. There must be a misunderstanding.”

The officers weren’t interested in character references.

“Step aside, Mr. Whitmore. Don’t obstruct us.”

Julian stared at the silver cuffs.

Something cold flashed in his eyes.

Then he understood.

“You.”

He jerked his head up and stared at Lucian.

“You’re Mr. L. You set me up!”

He lost control.

He lunged at Lucian, veins standing out along his neck, his face twisted beyond recognition.

Lucian didn’t move.

Julian couldn’t get past the police, let alone the bodyguards.

Lucian watched him struggle.

For once, the lazy indifference disappeared.

Without it, the authority of a man accustomed to deciding other people’s fates was unmistakable.

He stood and approached.

His eyes were viciously cold.

His voice was innocent.

“Mr. CEO… no, my mistake. You won’t be getting that position. Mr. Julian Whitmore.”

He emphasized every part of the name, grinding salt into the wound.

“All this evidence, and you’re still arguing. Detective Grant will have to be very thorough with you.”

“Lucian Blackwood!”

Julian looked ready to choke on his rage.

“What did I ever do to you? Why are you doing this? You fucking lunatic!”

Lucian stared at him.

Then he smiled.

“Julian. Do you believe people pay for what they’ve done?”

Julian went still.

Something changed beneath the anger on his face.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Lucian had already lost interest.

He turned and walked out.

I went with him.

At the elevators, the doors opened just as we arrived.

A crowd of reporters rushed out.