Chapter 4 - The Golden Boy’s BeggingOn the fifth floor of the public medical ward, the reality of Julian Brooks’ new existence had fully set in.
Julian was propped up in a standard hospital bed, handcuffed to the side rail, guarded by two armed county deputies. His broken ribs were bound in tight bandages, his lacerated spleen had been surgically patched, but the lavish lifestyle he took for granted had evaporated into thin air.
The heavy door opened, and Julian looked up, expecting his doting mother to walk in with an imported silk robe and gourmet soup.
Instead, I walked in, leaning lightly on a polished ebony cane, flanked by Madeline Sterling and our lead legal counsel, Samuel Price.
Julian’s eyes widened with a sickening mixture of shock, guilt, and entitled outrage. “Elena! Where the hell have you been? Look at me! They have me chained to a bed like a criminal! The doctors are refusing to transfer me to a private luxury suite!”
I stopped at the foot of his bed, looking at him with utter detachment. For thirty years, this man’s tantrums had governed my life. Now, he looked like nothing more than a pathetic, spoiled parasite.
“You are chained to that bed, Julian, because you are under arrest for Aggravated Vehicular Assault, Driving Under the Influence causing Great Bodily Injury, and Reckless Endangerment,” I said calmly.
Julian scoffed, trying to laugh it off. “Oh, come on! It was an accident! You know how slippery Silverwood Bridge gets in the rain! Tell the DA to drop the charges. Call Mom and Dad—they haven't answered my calls in four days!”
“Mom and Dad are in federal lockup,” I replied. “And they are facing twenty-five years to life for kidnapping me from a hospital twenty-nine years ago.”
The color drained from Julian’s face until he looked like wet plaster. “What... what are you talking about? You’re my sister! You’re supposed to take care of me!”
“I am Madeline Sterling’s daughter,” I said, stepping aside so he could see the formidable matriarch behind me. “I am not your sister. I am not your financial safety net. And I am certainly not your organ donor.”
Madeline stepped forward, tossing a thick red folder onto his lap.
“This is an immediate foreclosure notice on your nightclub, The Onyx Lounge,” Madeline announced with icy precision. “The building was owned by a commercial trust held by Sterling Global. You defaulted on three months of lease payments. As of 8:00 AM this morning, the locks have been changed, the liquor license has been revoked, and the marshals have seized your luxury sports cars to satisfy outstanding commercial debts.”
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Julian began to hyperventilate, clutching at his bandaged chest. “No! You can’t do that! That club is my life! Elena, please! You paid my debt last year! You promised Dad you’d always protect me!”
“That was before you grabbed my steering wheel,” I said, looking into his desperate eyes. “And before your parents tried to kill me for a liver. Enjoy the county jail, Julian. You’ve earned every single second.”
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