Chapter 7 - The Iron Wrist
Evelyn Armitage did not go quietly.
When the two uniformed officers stepped toward her, pulling heavy steel handcuffs from their belts, the refined, elegant matriarch broke completely.
"Get your hands off me!" she screamed, flailing her arms, her manicured nails scratching at the officer's sleeve. "Do you know who I am? I am Evelyn Armitage! I build museums in this city! I host the Mayor!"
"You have the right to remain silent, ma'am," the officer said flatly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back with practiced ease.
The steel cuff clicked shut with a sharp, heavy snap.
"Julian! Look at me!" Evelyn shrieked, her voice echoing down the hall as she was forced down onto her knees on the cold floor. "I am your mother! You came from my body! You cannot let these common people touch me!"
Julian did not look down at her. He stood like a monument of dark stone, his face completely motionless as his mother screamed.
"Julian!" she sobbed, tears finally smearing her perfect makeup, black mascara running down her wrinkled cheeks. "Clara is fine! She's alive! The baby is alive! It was just a fall! Julian!"
The officers pulled her to her feet. Her silk dress was torn at the shoulder, her silver hair unravelling from its pins, falling in messy strands across her face. The pearl earrings she had worn with such pride swung wildly as she struggled against the grip of the law.
The socialites she had invited to witness my humiliation stood lined against the wall, pulling out their phones, snapping photos and recording video of the great Evelyn Armitage being dragged through the VIP corridor in iron cuffs.
"Clear the hall," Julian ordered softly.
In thirty seconds, the corridor was emptied. Celeste and her father fled down the service stairs, terrified of the financial ruin heading their way. The board members bowed quietly to Julian and withdrew to execute his orders.
The heavy silence returned to the hospital wing.
Julian stood alone in the hallway.
May you like
The coldness in his face began to fracture. His shoulders, usually so broad and steady, started to shake. The terrifying CEO vanished, leaving behind the man who had sat on our small porch, holding my hand while we watched the sunset.
He turned toward my door.
