Chapter 38 - The Fall of the Sovereign
The Consortium's chief counsel, trembling visibly under Sylvester’s towering shadow, adjusted his spectacles and took the document with hands that shook violently. His eyes darted across the red-sealed pages, his skin turning a sickly shade of grey.
"Clause four," the lawyer stuttered, clearing his dry throat. "Upon biological confirmation of direct lineage... the totality of the Vance founding shares, comprising fifty-one percent of voting equity in the Sovereign Consortium, reverts immediately to the legal issue of Julian Vance, under the guardianship of Elena Vance, executed by Sylvester Kane."
A collective murmur of panic swept through the room like wildfire. Wealthy investors began standing up, their faces pale as they realized the catastrophic shift in power occurring right before their eyes.
"Nonsense! That is a fabricated forgery!" Sterling roared, slamming his fists onto the table and rising to his feet, his veins bulging against his neck. "Julian Vance died without heirs! That boy is a street-dwelling beggar from the industrial slums! He is an impostor!"
"Then explain this, Sterling," Sylvester said coldly.
He reached into his pocket and placed an electronic reader onto the table, connecting it to the master network port on the dais. The room’s massive teleconference screens flickered to life. A DNA comparison matrix flashed green: a ninety-nine point nine percent match between Lucas’s blood sample and Julian Vance’s permanent genetic repository.
Simultaneously, the financial ticker across the screens plummeted. Red numbers cascaded down the monitors at lightning speed.
"As of three minutes ago," Sylvester announced, leaning forward over the table, his uninjured hand gripping the mahogany edge until the wood groaned, "my holding companies initiated a synchronized short-sale against every asset under your personal portfolio. Your liquidity is evaporated. Your Swiss vaults are frozen by court injunction. And the sniper you hired from Aegis Vanguard?"
Marcus stepped into the hall, carrying a heavy, bloodstained metal case. He threw it onto the table directly in front of Sterling. The latches popped open, revealing the shattered components of the sniper rifle along with a handwritten confession signed by the assassin.
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"He sang like a bird before we turned him over to the federal authorities," Sylvester whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal certainty. "You’re done, Alistair. Your title, your bank, your freedom—everything you stole ends tonight."
***
