His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 35

His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 35

“Sir.”

The assistant’s calm voice pulled Julian back from the security footage.

“Daphne Vale has recently connected with a Miami businessman who has a criminal record. She’s contacting several tabloids and intends to spread rumors about financial problems at the Coastal Art Education Foundation in an attempt to smear Miss Reed.”

A cold arc appeared at the corner of Julian’s mouth.

“What a tireless fly.”

Disgust flashed through him. This kind of low-class tactic posed no real threat, but it was nauseating.

“Notify our lawyers,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an unquestionable command. “Package all the evidence of Daphne’s previous extortion attempts anonymously. Send one copy to the IRS and one to Immigration. Her visa should be close to expiring, shouldn’t it? Have our friends there pay her some extra attention.”

“Understood.”

“Also, send a memo to every bank that does business with the Mercer family. Put her on the highest-level financial risk list. Starting tomorrow, I want the name Daphne Vale to be unable to open a single bank account or apply for a single credit card in the United States.”

The assistant nodded and quickly made a note on his tablet.

“And Griffin Whitaker…?”

“Have the family office collect his remaining distressed assets,” Julian said lightly. “Don’t give any vultures a chance to pick up a bargain, and don’t give him any chance to rise again. I hope that for the rest of his life, he can focus on working hard to pay for his next meal.”

“Yes, sir.”

The assistant retreated silently, and the office returned to quiet.

Just then, the office door was pushed open softly.

“Julian? I’m here to take you home.”

It was Amelia’s voice.

The man who had been as cold as an iceberg a second before instantly melted. All the sharpness and calculation in his eyes disappeared, leaving only pure tenderness. He immediately rose and strode toward the door, like a large dog that had finally spotted its owner.

He opened his arms and pulled Amelia tightly into them, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her fresh scent. The exhaustion of a day spent facing numbers and schemes vanished in that moment.

“You finally came to see me,” he said, his voice carrying a trace of a complaint. “Your foundation is about to steal you away from me. We haven’t had a proper walk by the sea in nearly three weeks.”

Like a child, he pouted, “I really want to lock you up in the estate in Maine. Then I could see you every morning when I open my eyes.”

Hearing his childish complaint, Amelia couldn’t help but laugh. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“All right, stop complaining. To make it up to you, I booked our favorite restaurant by the sea. Tonight, no work. I’m all yours.”

“That’s more like it.” Julian tightened his embrace, satisfied, and lowered his head to kiss her lips.

Outside the window, Boston’s night deepened and the city lights came on. In this warm embrace, Amelia knew that the sky belonging to her had finally, completely, cleared.