Chapter 87 - The Standoff in Ward Four
"The world you built is rotting in the ground," I said, refusing to lower the weapon. "You faked your death because the Senate antitrust committee and the maritime tribunals had you cornered. Marcus didn't steal me to protect me; he stole your identity documents to blackmail you, and when you went into hiding, my mother ran to keep me from ever becoming what you are."
Arthur’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, terrifying displeasure. The facade of the gracious patriarch fell away, revealing the sociopathic architect underneath.
"Your mother was an emotional fool," Arthur spat coldly. "She believed in conscience. In ethics. Look where it brought the Harrington family! Marcus dead by his own hubris. Jason a broken, pathetic convict bankrupting his soul in a federal holding cell. Amanda reduced to selling her jewelry to pay retainer fees. Is that the legacy you cling to?"
"I don't cling to any of them," I said, taking one measured step forward. "I built my own life. I built a company with my own hands. I chose my wife. I chose my son. I owe Marcus nothing. And I owe you even less."
Arthur sighed, lifting his left hand. The two bodyguards raised their submachine guns, leveling them directly at my chest and Emily’s position.
"Then we have reached an impasse," Arthur murmured. "You see, the trusts Marcus locked away require a direct DNA match to unlock the global holding accounts in Zurich and Singapore. I cannot legally touch the sovereign funds without your biological consent—or the signature of your legal successor. If you will not take the seat at the head of the table, Brian... then your infant son will suffice. I will take him. My attorneys will be appointed his sole legal guardians. And you and your little wife will be classified as tragic casualties of a subterranean gas leak."
May you like
He tilted his head toward the cradle. "Kill the father."
Before the guards could pull their triggers, the concrete floor beneath Arthur’s boots violently shuddered.
