(Muffled)It’s not fair. I did everything right. The merger, the optics… they still cut me out. My own father.
A sprawling, silent penthouse. The furniture is covered in plastic. ADELA (50s, uniform crisp enough to cut glass) is scrubbing a wine stain out of a white rug. She doesn’t look tired; she looks like she’s winning a war. extra episode - maid preaches good gospel.mp4
(She finally stands, clutching a spray bottle like a scepter)I am telling you the Truth. You’re upset because you lost a seat at a table that’s already on fire. My Bible says it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a man like your father to feel peace. JULIAN I don’t want peace, Adela. I want my shares back. (Muffled)It’s not fair
ADELA: A maid with a terrifyingly calm demeanor. JULIAN: (20s) Slumped on a designer sofa, hungover, nursing a bruised ego. My own father
(Without looking up)You’re crying over the wrong kingdom, Mr. Julian. JULIAN What?