Chapter 9 - The Trap Snaps Shut
Leon’s coat was soaked from the storm, his hair plastered to his forehead, but the smirk on his face was dripping with venomous arrogance.
"Eleven years, Victor," Leon said, stepping forward while his men kept their weapons trained on the small bedroom. "Eleven years of kissing your ring, taking your scraps, managing your dirty work while you played the untouchable king of New York."
Victor didn't rise from the floor. He slowly positioned his body in front of Lena, his hand resting calmly against the carpet where his suppressed pistol lay concealed beneath a discarded blanket.
"You traded eleven years of loyalty for Clara Whitmore?" Victor’s voice was venomously calm. "She will put a bullet in your spine the second the contracts clear, Leon. You're a pawn."
"I'm the pawn who won the board!" Leon snapped, his voice rising in triumph. "The Whitmores have already initiated the hostile takeover. By eight o'clock tomorrow morning, your bank accounts will be frozen under federal warrants for illegal chemical trafficking—thanks to the files Clara planted in your servers tonight."
Lena’s blood turned to ice. They hadn't just tried to murder Victor; they were framing him to strip his family name of everything.
"And Thomas Hayes's daughter," Leon sneered, looking past Victor at Lena. "You should have stayed washing dishes in the basement, little girl. Your father died for that flash drive. Now you'll die right beside Romano."
"Leon," Lena said, her voice steady despite the guns pointed at her. "My father didn't write the formula for Clara Whitmore. He wrote it to save people from nerve damage. The Whitmores weaponized it. And you helped them kill my mother too, didn't you?"
Leon chuckled, a hollow, cruel sound. "Collateral damage, sweetheart. Now, drop the Bible on the floor, Victor. Hands behind your head."
Victor tilted his head slightly. "You made one mistake, Leon."
"Oh? And what’s that?"
"You assumed I left my men behind."
At that exact second, the window behind Leon shattered into a thousand pieces.
Dmitri swung through the glass on a tactical rope, firing two heavy rounds straight into the chests of the two mercenaries on the left. At the same instant, Victor grabbed his hidden pistol from beneath the blanket, rolled onto his back, and fired upward.
The bullet struck the mercenary on the right before he could pull his trigger.
Chaos erupted in the tiny apartment. Gunfire deafened the room.
Leon scrambled backward into the hallway, firing wildly over his shoulder. One of his stray bullets struck Victor’s previously injured shoulder, tearing open the stitches. Victor grunted in pain, blood immediately soaking through his jacket.
"Victor!" Lena cried, lunging forward.
May you like
"Go! Get him!" Victor roared through gritted teeth, pushing her toward the door while Dmitri secured the remaining downed guards. "Don't let him leave this building alive!"
Lena didn't hesitate. Fueled by six years of grief, fury, and adrenaline, she grabbed her weapon and sprinted down the dimly lit hallway into the rain-soaked stairwell after the man who had destroyed her family.
