Chapter 7 - The Counsel's Ultimatum
The heavy doors of the SUV clicked shut behind us as Cole instantly dropped his hand toward his tactical holster, his eyes narrowing at the strangers inside my home.
"Stand down, Cole," Marcus Sterling said smoothly, his voice echoing off the vaulted marble ceiling. He set his coffee cup down on the entry console with a soft clink. He didn't look like a lawyer caught trespassing; he looked like a landlord collecting rent. "If my guards wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it past the front gates. Besides, I'm simply here to welcome my favorite client home."
I shoved the car door open, stepping out into the chilly morning air with Lucas still cradled securely in my arms. Emily scrambled out right behind me, sticking close to my side, her wide eyes darting nervously toward the armed men.
"Get out of my house, Marcus," I snarled, stepping past Cole into the foyer. My voice was a low, dangerous rumble that made even the private guards shift their weight uneasily. "You have thirty seconds before I have my head of security throw you into the street."
Marcus offered a thin, polite smile, adjusting his gold-rimmed cufflinks. "You can threaten me all you want, Sebastian, but it doesn't change the mathematical reality of your situation. You spent the last year looking for a missing boy while your corporate foundation quietly unraveled beneath your feet."
Lucas buried his face deeper into my neck, whimpering softly. "Dad, I want to go to my room. I'm scared."
"Shh, buddy, I've got you," I whispered, kissing his forehead before looking back at Marcus with pure venom. "Cole, take Emily and Lucas up to the east wing. Lock the reinforced panic doors and don't open them for anyone—not even me—unless you hear my voice phrase."
Cole hesitated, weighing the tactical risk, then nodded sharply. He gestured gently to the two children. "Come on, kids. Let's go check out the toy room upstairs."
As the heavy oak doors of the east wing closed behind them, I turned my full, unbridled fury onto Marcus Sterling.
"Talk," I commanded. "Before I forget I'm a civilized man."
Marcus walked slowly toward the sweeping grand staircase, running a hand along the polished mahogany banister. "You always were too impatient, Sebastian. You think NovaPay is yours because you wrote the initial code in your garage twelve years ago. But you never asked where the seed funding came from. You never wondered why an unknown venture firm in Zurich wired twenty million dollars into your empty account the exact week your father died."
The breath hitched in my chest. Twenty million dollars. The founding capital.
"My father died of a heart attack," I spat out.
"Your father tried to dissolve the trust to pay off his gambling debts, and the syndicate cleaned up the loose ends," Marcus corrected casually, turning to face me with cold, dead eyes. "And now, your ex-wife Elena tried to do the exact same thing with Victor. They thought they could bleed the accounts and run. But the trust doesn't forgive theft, Sebastian. And it certainly doesn't allow outsiders to keep custody of heirs outside the bloodline."
He reached into his jacket, pulling out a thick, leather-bound folder and tossing it onto the glass coffee table.
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"Sign the global asset transfer over to the Sterling-Vance Foundation by noon today," Marcus said, his voice hardening into steel. "Or federal regulators will freeze every single account you own, issue an emergency custody warrant for Lucas under the endangered child statutes, and lock you away in a federal penitentiary for financial conspiracy."
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