Chapter 7 - The Countdown"You're bluffing," Ethan said, though the muscle in his jaw twitched violently.
Julian reached up, tapping the sleek gold cufflink on his left wrist. A tiny holographic timer flickered to life in the dim light, displaying glowing red numbers counting down: 04:12:35... 04:12:34...
"Five hours, little brother," Julian chuckled, gently pushing Ethan’s gun away with two fingers. "That is how long you have to hand over full operational control of the board to my offshore trust. Otherwise, the world learns that the brilliant, resurrected CEO of Ashford Enterprises was laundering cartel money through his medical supply companies before he even got into that car crash."
My breath caught. I stepped out from behind Ethan, my nursing training kicking in—not to heal, but to analyze weakness under pressure.
"Your heart rate is elevated," I said quietly, stepping closer to Julian.
Julian’s eyes flickered toward me, amused. "Pardon?"
"You're sweating at the temples," I continued, narrowing my eyes as I observed his posture. "And your left hand is trembling slightly, trying to conceal a tremor in your wrist. That's not confidence, Julian. That's withdrawal. Or toxicity."
Julian’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second—just enough for me to catch it.
"You're wearing a subcutaneous biometric relay," I realized, pointing at his gold cufflink. "It's not sending a signal to an offshore server. It's tethered to a local medical pod—probably hidden in the estate's underground garage. You're sick, Julian. Whatever killed you in the Alps wasn't a plane crash; it was organ failure from experimental synthetic narcotics."
Julian’s face darkened instantly. The mask of cool detachment cracked, revealing a desperate, feral rage.
"Shut your mouth, you little whore," Julian hissed, lunging forward.
He never reached me.
Ethan’s fist connected with Julian’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Julian staggered backward, crashing against the mahogany wet bar and knocking crystal decanters to the floor in a shower of shattered glass.
Before Julian could recover, Ethan kicked the gold cufflink off his wrist with the heel of his shoe, crushing the biometric transmitter under his boot.
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The red holographic timer flickered violently, turned solid blue, and went completely dark.
“Signal lost,” the smart-home system announced mechanically. “Emergency lockdown lifted.”
