Chapter 8 - The Matriarch's Retribution
Julian froze. His smug expression dissolved into sudden panic as the unmistakable clicking of tactical rifles echoed from every balcony vantage point around the cathedral ceiling.
"What is this?" Vanessa hissed, pulling her own firearm and aiming it at Lily’s head. "Whoever is up there, stand down or I pull the trigger!"
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"I wouldn't advise that, dear," a voice echoed through the high-arched sanctuary.
From the darkened vestibule behind the altar stepped Margaret. She had shed her torn evening gown for a dark wool overcoat. Flanking her were six heavily armed operators wearing unmarked tactical gear—the elite security team of the de Mercer family, Margaret’s ancestral bloodline.
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"Margaret?" Julian whispered, his jaw dropping. "How did you...?"
"You foolish, arrogant boy," Margaret said, her voice commanding and resonant, echoing through the cathedral like thunder. "You think Richard built this empire alone? Richard was an ambitious penniless clerk when I married him. Every single port authority, every shipping vessel, every offshore registry you covet was bought with de Mercer money. Richard didn't leave you out of the will because he hated you. He left you out because he knew you had the same weak, thieving spirit as your mother."
Vanessa’s hand trembled on the grip of her pistol. "Don't move! I’ll kill her! I swear I’ll shoot the girl!"
"No, Vanessa," Ethan said, taking a single calm step forward. "You won't."
A single, suppressed shot cracked from the loft. Vanessa screamed as a sniper round struck her shoulder, sending her gun clattering against the stone floor. She collapsed onto the altar steps, clutching her bleeding arm with agonizing groans.
Julian lunged forward to grab Ethan’s discarded gun from the floor, but Ethan moved like a panther. He closed the distance in two strides, his boot slamming down on Julian’s wrist with a sickening crunch. Julian shrieked in pain as Ethan kicked the gun away, driving his knee forcefully into Julian’s ribs, pinning the older man flat against the cold marble floor.
"It’s over, Julian," Ethan whispered into his half-brother's ear, his breath hot against Julian’s skin.
Julian spat blood onto Ethan’s polished shoe, wheezing through cracked ribs. "You think... you think you won, Ethan? You haven't checked the basement of the main house, have you?"
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Ethan’s grip tightened on Julian’s collar. "What did you do?"
"The explosives were set the moment the power cut out," Julian coughed out a sinister, broken laugh. "The family archives, the deeds, the original bearer bonds... thirty seconds, Ethan. Everything Richard ever built burns to ash."
