Chapter 23 - The Geneva Gambit
A soft click echoed from the doorway behind Vance.
Four-year-old Noah stepped out into the terrace moonlight. He wasn't crying. He wasn't cowering. In his small hands, he held a sleek, black remote detonator—the exact same design Dominic had used to blow up the Chicago cathedral.
“Drop the stick, old man,” Noah said, his voice steady, echoing his father’s chilling tone.
Vance’s eyes widened in brief astonishment. “What is this...?”
“My son doesn’t play with wooden trains anymore, Vance,” Dominic said, pulling his hand from his jacket to reveal a second transmitter. “The moment your men breached my perimeter in Positano, my automatic defense protocol armed the seismic charges buried directly beneath this cliffside villa.”
Vance’s smug composure cracked for the first time. “You wouldn't blow up your own family.”
“Try me,” Dominic sneered, his thumb resting lightly on the red button. “I’ve burned one empire today. I have no problem sending you to hell with the rest of us.”
“Wait!” Vance held up a hand, signaling his guards to lower their weapons. “There is another way.”
“Talk fast,” Dominic growled.
“The Global Board meets in Geneva in forty-eight hours,” Vance bargained, his pulse visible in his neck. “The Syndicate is splintering. Without your father’s ledger key, Clara, the board members will start a global war that will consume every continent. Come to Geneva voluntarily. Present the key to the Board. In exchange, I give you complete immunity, full emancipation from the Syndicate, and fifty percent of the unlocked funds.”
I looked at Dominic, then at Noah holding the detonator with unwavering focus, and finally at Vance.
“We go to Geneva,” I said, stepping forward.
May you like
Dominic turned to me, his jaw tight. “Clara, no—”
“He’s right about one thing, Dominic,” I looked Vance dead in the eye. “As long as that ten billion dollars exists, people will hunt Tyler and me forever. It’s time to end this story at the root.”
