Chapter 7 - The Iron Vault
The shockwave knocked Emma back against the wall, her ears ringing with high-pitched feedback. Acrid smoke filled the corridor, smelling of burning metal and sulfur. Through the haze of blinding white fire, three figures stepped through the breached doorway, their assault rifles raised and leveled directly at Marcus.
"Don't move, Mr. Vance," a voice rang out through the smoke, smooth, cultured, and accented.
A tall man stepped into the ambient glow of the flames. He wore an immaculately tailored cashmere overcoat over a dark suit, his silver hair pulled back into a neat tie. His face was weathered with sharp, predatory cheekbones and eyes as cold as glacial ice. Behind him stood Julian Sterling, trembling like a leaf, clutching an empty crystal flask.
"Victor Lucian," Marcus said, not lowering his weapon an inch, though three red laser sights danced across his chest.
"You've been an irritating thorn in my side for a decade, Marcus," Victor said pleasantly, adjusting his cuffs. "Did you really think a few private security guards could keep me out of this manor? I built this estate's foundational security systems twenty years ago for your father."
Julian stepped forward, glaring at Emma with petty, venomous spite. "Look at you, Emma. Hiding behind a criminal. If you had just signed the prenups yesterday, we would be on our way to Paris right now. You would have had an allowance, a penthouse, anything you wanted. Instead, you chose ruin."
Emma stepped out from behind Marcus’s shoulder, her chin lifted high, her tears long gone. "I would rather burn in hell than spend another second pretending to love a coward who borrows other men's courage."
Julian’s face twisted in rage, and he raised his hand as if to strike her, but Victor held up an elegant hand, stopping Julian cold.
"Quiet, boy," Victor snapped without looking at Julian. "She is worth twenty billion dollars; you are worth the debt I haven't collected from your father yet. Act accordingly."
Victor turned back to Emma, presenting a sleek, silver biometric scanner case. "Miss Cross. Or rather, Vance. Your mother left an encrypted digital key in the downtown depository. Place your thumb on this reader to verify the transfer of her founder's stake, and I will let Marcus Vance leave this country alive. Refuse, and I will execute him here, take your thumb anyway, and bury you both under this mountain."
Marcus didn't blink. He caught Emma’s eye, giving her a microscopic nod toward the glass floor panels near the entrance. Beneath those panels lay the emergency pressure-release vents for the fire suppression halon gas.
May you like
Emma stepped forward slowly, extending her right hand toward the scanner. "You really think you won?" she whispered.
As her thumb grazed the glass scanner, she deliberately slammed her heel downward into the manual override sensor beneath the rug.
