The screen lit up, casting a blue glow on my face.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I dialed the direct number to Julian’s private office.

The line began to ring.

Alexander held his breath beside me.

On the third ring, the line clicked open.

“Speak,” a cold, familiar voice said.

“It’s Claire,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Silence stretched over the line.

I could hear the faint, rhythmic click of a pen on the other end.

“I didn’t think you would have the nerve to call,” Julian said.

His voice was a perfect replica of Alexander’s, yet the warmth was entirely missing.

“I have something you need,” I said.

“Do you?” he asked, his tone dripping with quiet amusement.

“The original trust amendment,” I said. “The one your father signed before he died. The one that strips you of every dime of the Whitmore fortune.”

The clicking of the pen stopped.

“That document is a myth,” Julian said.

“It isn’t,” I said. “And we both know the board will freeze your assets the moment they see the signature analysis. It will destroy everything you and Senator Sterling have built.”