4. The CEO’s Downfall
Julian froze.
The heavy, ornate oak double doors behind Dr. Thorne didn’t just open; they swung inward with aggressive, violent force.
It wasn’t the paramedics.
Six uniformed police officers and two plainclothes detectives, wearing heavy tactical vests, flooded into the grand foyer, their presence completely, violently shattering the elite, high-society atmosphere of the gala.
“Julian Vance!” the lead detective barked, stepping into the ballroom, his hand resting firmly on the grip of his holstered weapon. “Put the woman down and step away from her! Do it now!”
Julian was trapped.
He looked at the armed police officers blocking the exit. He looked at Dr. Thorne blocking his path. He looked at the two hundred wealthy guests, investors, and board members who were now staring at him not with admiration, but with absolute, unvarnished horror and revulsion.
The facade completely, permanently crumbled.
He wasn’t the visionary, untouchable CEO anymore. He was a terrified, cornered, pathetic animal realizing that his cage had just been locked from the outside.
He didn’t gently lower me to the floor. In a final, desperate act of self-preservation, Julian roughly, callously dropped me. My body hit the hard marble floor with a sickening thud, the breath rushing out of my paralyzed lungs.
