Chapter 30
Garrett panted, his chest heaving violently, his face smeared with blood and soot, contorted with madness. He aimed the black barrel of his gun straight at Brooke's chest, his finger trembling on the trigger. He roared in delusional triumph, his voice hoarse: "It's all over, Brooke! The server room downstairs is rigged with C4. I'm going to push the button and wipe out the Vance family's entire massive fortune, and then I'm going to watch you die on this expensive rug, in your own tower!"
Brooke didn't blink. She slowly walked around the desk, her gait graceful and proud, the sharp clicking of her stilettos echoing on the wooden floor like the countdown of a death clock.
"You've always been so short-sighted, Garrett," she smiled, a bitterly mocking smile that made him shudder. "Did you think the Vance family's century-old legacy was carelessly stored on physical hard drives here? All the server data was transferred to a decentralized encrypted satellite network three hours ago. The server room you just risked your life to charge into and rig with explosives... is completely empty."
Garrett froze. His eyes dropped, absolute terror beginning to consume his mind as he realized the bitter truth. He had sold his soul to the devil, gambled his life, and destroyed a federal prison just to capture a soulless corpse, a perfect trap.
At that exact moment, Brooke subtly pressed a small button hidden in her palm. Instantly, the top-secret security system was activated. Ultra-hard titanium shields dropped from the ceiling, encasing the office's entire tempered glass wall, turning the room into an impenetrable giant safe.
The ventilation system suddenly hissed, spewing out a powerful, colorless, odorless, highly concentrated anesthetic gas. Garrett realized he was trapped. He screamed madly, trying to pull the trigger, but from the ventilation shaft in the ceiling, Cole—who had wiped out the mercenaries on the Caribbean island and flown back just in time on a hypersonic jet—dropped down like a ghost.
With a devastating takedown strike, Cole snapped Garrett's wrist backward with a sickening crack. The gun fell to the carpet. Cole slammed him to the floor, driving a knee hard into the back of his neck. As Garrett slowly lost consciousness from the gas, his eyes rolling back helplessly, Brooke stepped closer. She looked down at the man who had once been the nightmare of her life, the tip of her stiletto stopping inches from his face.
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"You will be held in a black site prison deep underground, a place that doesn't exist on any government map," Brooke whispered, her voice like a god's final judgment. "No trial, no press, no human rights, and gone from this world forever."
Once Garrett was completely unconscious, Brooke turned to look out at the city skyline. The first rays of the morning sun began to tear through the fog, illuminating her flawless face. The deception had been crushed, the revenge finalized with absolute victory. The reign of Vance-Hale Global under the sole dominion of Queen Brooke Vance officially began, carving her name into history with power and blood.
