So does justice, I almost added. But justice was already in motion.
Six months later, spring came softly to the city.
The emergency custody order became permanent following the criminal findings and the brutal civil case that ensued. Julian Vance was convicted on multiple federal counts, including attempted murder in the first degree, wire fraud, and grand theft. Victoria Sterling testified for the prosecution, eager to clear her family’s name after discovering exactly how many millions he had siphoned through their properties.
Richard Sterling, true to his ruthless nature, hunted down every cent Julian had stolen and settled my grandfather’s property claim in full, wiring the damages directly to my firm.
As for me, I reopened my cybersecurity consulting practice in a sunlit office overlooking the river. My son, Leo, liked to nap on my chest while I typed, the exact same way he had the day I walked into a wedding and ended a man’s illusion with a single envelope.
Sometimes, on quiet, freezing evenings, I still hear Julian’s voice cutting through the roar of the blizzard.
You’ll be fine. You always survive.
He was right, in the smallest, most pathetic possible way.
I survived.
And then I made absolutely sure he didn’t. Not in the world he built from lies. Not in the future he tried to purchase with my blood. He lost his freedom, his money, his reputation, his bride, and every single door that had once opened for him was now locked from the outside.
I kept my son. I kept my work. I kept my inheritance. I kept my peace.