Chapter 7 - The Reckoning of Arthur Sterling
Julian didn't answer with words.
He lunged into the vehicle, ignoring Arthur Sterling completely, wrapped his arms around his younger brother’s frail, skeletal frame, and pulled him close against his chest.
Leo was shockingly light, his bones sharp against Julian’s hands, his body shivering uncontrollably in the cold sea breeze.
"I’m here, Leo," Julian wept openly, his tears soaking into his brother’s dirty jumpsuit. "I’m here. It’s over. God forgive me, it’s over."
Arthur Sterling didn't move. He sat in his leather chair, holding his briefcase, his face a cold, aristocratic mask of supreme detachment.
"You’re making a monumental mistake, Julian," Arthur said smoothly, his voice deep and cultured. "Your brother was mentally unstable. He suffered a severe psychotic break six years ago. My family took him in to protect your company from the scandal of his degradation—"
Before Arthur could finish his sentence, Detective Miller reached into the SUV, grabbed Arthur by his silk tie, and dragged him violently out of the vehicle, slamming him face-first onto the wet tarmac.
"Arthur Sterling," Miller growled, driving his knee into the billionaire’s spine and pulling his arms behind his back. "You are under arrest for federal kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, obstruction of justice, and money laundering. You have the right to remain silent."
Arthur’s polished face was pressed against the cold, wet concrete, his expensive suit ruined by oil stains and rainwater. "You cannot touch me, Miller! I will have your badge by noon! Call Governor Davies immediately!"
"The Governor signed your arrest warrant twenty minutes ago, Arthur," Miller said, snapping the heavy steel cuffs around the billionaire’s wrists. "It turns out your daughter’s former housemaid gave the state prosecutor twenty-four years of your financial ledgers."
Two state troopers hoisted Arthur Sterling to his feet, dragging him toward a waiting police cruiser.
Julian stayed on his knees inside the SUV, carefully wrapping his dark tactical jacket around Leo’s shivering shoulders.
A team of flight paramedics rushed up the jet stairs with a gurney, but Leo shrank back in terror, clutching Julian’s lapel with the same desperate grip Maria had used hours earlier.
"Don't let them take me back to the dark, Jules," Leo begged, his eyes darting frantically toward the sky. "Please... don't lock the door."
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Julian looked into his brother’s sunken, haunted eyes and stroked his messy, graying hair.
"Nobody is ever locking a door on you again, Leo," Julian promised, his voice ringing with absolute, unyielding authority. "I swear it on our mother’s grave."
