Julian stood on the top step, trying his best to maintain an air of arrogant control, but his hands began to shake slightly as the powerful old man approached him. He knew Arthur Vance by reputation—he was a legendary corporate figure who controlled several major financial trusts and real estate portfolios across the country. Julian had tried for months to secure a meeting with Arthur's investment firm, never suspecting that the quiet girl he married was the sole heir to the entire fortune. Victoria backed away slowly into the foyer, sensing the sudden, dangerous shift in the atmosphere.
Arthur didn't say a single word as he crossed the threshold into the bright mansion hallway, passing right under the large American flag. His heavy shoes clacked rhythmically against the light marble floor, sound echoing like a countdown toward total disaster. Julian opened his mouth to offer an explanation or an apology, hoping his business vocabulary could de-escalate the terrifying man standing right in front of him. But before he could utter a single word, Arthur stepped into his space and struck him across the face with tremendous speed and power.
The first slap landed with a loud, thunderous crack across Julian's right cheek, snapping his head violently to the side. Julian gasped in absolute shock, stumbling back two steps as dark pain exploded across his jawline.
Julian: Ugh! Wait!
Arthur didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He stepped forward and delivered a second, even harder backhand slap across Julian's left cheek, sending the younger man's designer glasses flying across the marble floor where they shattered into tiny pieces. Julian groaned loudly, clutching his face with both hands, but Arthur was far from finished. He grabbed Julian by his silk bowtie, pulled him forward, and struck him two more times in rapid succession—four heavy, brutal slaps that echoed off the high ceilings like thunderclaps.
Julian: Please! Stop! I'm sorry!
Arthur: Shut your mouth!
The force of the final blow knocked Julian off his feet entirely. He crashed down onto the light marble floor on his hands and knees, groaning in absolute agony as blood trickled from the corner of his swollen lip. His arrogance was completely shattered, replaced by raw terror as he looked up at the towering figure standing above him. Arthur straightened his dark tie, adjusted his cuffs, and looked down at the pathetic man cowering on the floor with total disgust. He extended his hand toward Clara, pulling her close to his side right under the shadow of the flag.
Arthur: You thought she had nobody? You forgot who her father was!