Julian hadn't moved since Savannah handed him the flash drive. He stood there, silent and still, like a man on the edge of a decision he couldn't unmake.
Savannah watched him, heart clenched with a tension she couldn't name. She'd told herself she was here for answers. That was still true. But the longer she stood in his presence, the more her conviction blurred beneath the weight of everything they hadn't said.
"Play it," she said, her voice soft but firm.
Julian glanced at her, then crossed to his desk, inserting the flash drive into his private laptop. The files loaded quickly—too quickly. His fingers hovered over the trackpad as the folder titled Inheritance blinked open.
The video file was first.
Savannah stood beside him as the grainy footage played. Damien's voice echoed through the speakers, smooth and cold as steel.
"If Savannah Hale keeps digging, I won't even need a scandal to bury him. The truth will do just fine."
Julian's jaw clenched. His hand closed into a fist against the desk.
"She wasn't supposed to be part of this," he murmured. "None of this was ever supposed to touch you."
Savannah took a step closer. "But it has. You can't protect me from something you won't even let me see."
He turned to her slowly, the shadows in his eyes deeper than ever. "What if seeing it breaks everything you think you know about me?"
"Then at least I'll be breaking it with the truth."
A long pause stretched between them before Julian clicked on the second file—Appendix B of the will. Savannah had already read it, but watching him read it, watching the color drain from his face as he absorbed his father's cold calculations, made her feel like she was seeing a younger version of Julian—one who'd learned power came with a price.
"She never wanted any of this," he said suddenly.
Savannah blinked. "Who?"
"My mother."
He sat heavily on the leather chair beside the fireplace, the laptop still open behind him. The fire wasn't lit, but his voice carried its own slow burn.
"She married my father out of desperation, not love. He was already building the empire, already half a god in this city. She thought he would give her safety." He let out a bitter laugh. "He gave her secrets. Bruises. A life locked behind glass."
Savannah's heart twisted.
"Damien isn't just my half-brother. He's my father's mistake. The product of an affair that became a weapon. My father legitimized him on paper, gave him a name, but never love. Never power. Just enough bitterness to poison every room he walks into."
Julian looked up at her, eyes burning. "He hates me because I got the throne. And he's right. I got it by pretending to be everything my father wasn't. But now Damien's found a way to turn the legacy into a noose—and you're the leverage."
Savannah's breath hitched. "Why me?"
Julian stood, slowly. "Because you're the only thing I've ever wanted that has nothing to do with power. And he knows that if he touches you—if he even threatens you—he controls me."
She stared at him, heart thudding.
"Julian…"
His name felt like glass on her tongue. Sharp. Fragile.
But he was already moving again, heading toward a hidden panel near the bookshelves. He pressed a code, and with a soft hiss, the panel slid open, revealing a secure cabinet. Inside were files, black folders, passports, hard drives. One folder, labeled PROJECT: HALCYON, made Savannah's blood run cold.
"What's Halcyon?" she asked.
Julian's shoulders stiffened. "The original cover-up."
He pulled the folder out and handed it to her.
Inside were documents—contracts, old shipping manifests, offshore payments, and a name that appeared again and again in redacted memos.
Margot Hale.
Savannah felt like the floor tilted beneath her. "That's my aunt."
Julian nodded grimly. "She was the company's original fixer. Before she vanished, she was the one cleaning up every dirty deal our father made."
Savannah's voice trembled. "She's been missing for six years."
"She's not missing," Julian said. "She's hiding. Because she knew too much."
Savannah's thoughts spun. Her aunt had disappeared without a trace—no note, no remains, just silence. And now here she was, tied to the center of the web Savannah had been unraveling.
"How long have you known?" she whispered.
Julian looked away. "A year. I didn't tell you because… because I didn't know what the truth would do to you."
She stepped back like she'd been slapped. "So you lied to protect me?"
"I didn't lie," he said, voice tight. "I withheld. Because if Damien knew you were Margot's niece, you'd be more than leverage. You'd be a threat."
"And now?" she asked, voice hollow.
"Now he knows."
The finality in his tone made her blood go cold.
Before she could speak again, the lights in the study flickered. Then went out.
Julian's posture snapped rigid. "Stay here."
"No," Savannah said instantly. "If something's happening—"
The floor shook. Just once. A tremor. And then the distant, unmistakable sound of glass shattering.
Julian grabbed her wrist. "We have to go. Now."
He pulled her down the hallway toward the private elevator. Before they reached it, a blast echoed from the floor below—an explosion? The walls vibrated. Savannah could barely keep up.
They reached a narrow staircase, and Julian slammed the door shut behind them, bolting it.
"Julian—what is this?"
"They're here," he muttered. "And they're not after you this time. They're after me."
He tapped a code into a hidden panel at the bottom of the stairs, and a secondary door hissed open. It led to an underground parking level—sleek, steel-gray, eerily silent.
"Get in," he said, opening the passenger door of a matte black car.
"I'm not leaving without answers," she snapped.
He rounded the hood, face grim. "You're not leaving without me."
They sped through the underground tunnel in tense silence, the city lights above flickering in glimpses as they emerged blocks away from the estate.
Savannah's fingers gripped the door.
"Tell me now," she said. "All of it. Or I walk."
Julian's hands tightened on the wheel.
"Fine," he said. "You want the whole truth? Here it is."
He pulled over and turned to face her.
"My father didn't just build Thorne Enterprises on business acumen. He used blackmail. Corporate espionage. He stole technology, sabotaged competitors, and left bodies behind—metaphorical and otherwise."
He swallowed.
"I helped him, Savannah. Not willingly, not always knowingly. But I was a part of it. I signed papers I didn't read. I followed orders I didn't question."
Savannah stared at him, heart splintering.
"And now?" she asked.
"I'm trying to make it right," he said, voice rough. "Even if it kills me."
Silence fell. Outside the car, the city throbbed like a living thing.
"You said I mattered," she whispered. "But how can I matter if you don't even trust me enough to tell me the truth until the walls are burning?"
"I didn't think I deserved you," Julian admitted. "I still don't."
Her hand hovered over the door handle. Every instinct screamed at her to run.
But when she looked at him—really looked—she saw the cracks. Not just in him, but in herself. The places where grief and betrayal had hollowed them out and left something fragile behind.
She exhaled. "Then prove it."
He blinked. "What?"
"Prove to me that you're not just trying to survive this war. Prove that you're fighting for something more."
Julian reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a thick file.
Inside was everything Savannah needed to take Damien down.
Names. Numbers. Photographs.
"Start with this," he said. "We expose him. Together."
Savannah stared at the folder, her hands shaking.
Then she looked up.
"Let's burn him down."