Chapter 10 - The Confrontation
Julian kicked the heavy door inward with a resounding crash. Victoria scrambled backward, knocking over a tray of stainless-steel instruments that scattered across the tile. Her wedding dress was smeared with motor grease and chemical foam, the illusion of perfection shattered entirely.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, pulling a small silver derringer from the pocket of her lab coat. Her hands shook violently as she aimed it at Julian’s chest. “You think she’s going to come back to you? She’s been in a chemical coma for eight months! Her brain is soup, Julian! I did what had to be done to save the Sterling portfolio!”
“You did it because you were a thief,” Julian said, his voice dropping into a register of terrifying calm. He didn't even look at the gun pointed at his heart. He walked forward steadily, his footsteps measured, forcing her backward toward the row of humming server racks. “You couldn't build anything of your own. You lived off my family’s name, and when Elena found out you were selling our logistics to cartels, you tried to erase her.”
“She was weak!” Victoria shrieked. “She wanted to report it! She was going to ruin everything we spent twenty years building!”
“Everything I built,” Julian corrected.
With a lightning-fast motion, Julian knocked Victoria’s wrist aside. The derringer fired, sending a wild bullet through the server screen behind them, showering them with sparks. Julian caught her by the forearm, twisted the weapon from her grip, and slammed her against the cold steel of the console.
Behind him, Marcus walked into the room, his weapon resting loosely in his hand. He took out a pair of heavy tactical zip-ties and wrenched Victoria’s arms behind her back, binding her wrists until she whimpered in pain.
Julian didn’t spare her another glance. He turned toward the hospital bed in the center of the pod.
Elena lay motionless beneath the plastic tubing. Her skin was translucent, her long dark hair spread across the white pillow. Julian approached the bedside slowly, feeling as though he were walking through water. He reached out an unsteady hand and touched her cold cheek.
May you like
“Elena,” he whispered, his throat tightening.
Her eyelashes fluttered. A long, shuddering breath escaped her lips. Beside the bed, the heart monitor began to beep with erratic, accelerating urgency.
