Chapter 13 - The Midnight Broadcast
The laughter in our dining room was shattered by the sharp, rhythmic chime of the security panel in the foyer. Ethan paused, the serving fork still in his hand, his eyes instantly shifting from soft fatherly warmth to razor-sharp suspicion.
"Stay seated," Ethan said quietly, setting the platter down on the dining table.
Before he could reach the hall, the giant smart television in the adjoining living room powered on by itself. The ambient warm lighting in the house flickered, plunging the room into a eerie blue hue as the screen displayed a emergency broadcast banner.
Noah stood up, stepping instinctively in front of twelve-year-old Sophie. "Dad? What's going on with the network?"
A dark figure sat in a leather executive chair on the broadcast screen. His hair was streaked with grey, a jagged scar running from his left temple down to his jawline—a face I had seen in old corporate portraits, a face that was supposed to have been buried in a burning wreck off the coast of Maine seven years ago.
Julian Vance. Ethan’s elder half-brother.
"Good evening, Ethan," Julian’s voice echoed through the high-definition speakers, smooth, cold, and dripping with venom. "And to you, my dear sister-in-law, Chairwoman of the Vance Global Trust. I hope you enjoyed your cozy family dinner."
My hands shook violently against my wine glass as I stood up, leaning against the table. "He's dead... Ethan, you showed me the dental records seven years ago!"
"He faked the crash," Ethan growled, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned ghostly white. "Marcus! Get the security team inside!"
"Don't bother calling Marcus," Julian smiled serenely on the screen, holding up a sleek glass tablet. "Your private satellite relay was jammed three minutes ago. I don't want a firefight, Ethan. I’m a businessman. I’m calling to inform you that sixty percent of Vance Global’s bearer shares—the ones your father hidden in the Panama offshore accounts—have just been legally assigned to my estate."
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Julian leaned forward, his dark eyes locking directly into the camera lens.
"You have twenty-four hours to step down as CEO, Ethan. Or I release the original medical files from ten years ago—the ones proving that Noah isn't your biological son."
