Chapter 6 - The Price of a Life"Come on, Uncle Richard, tell me another story about how you're going to save the family honor," Vanessa’s voice rang out, sharp and dripping with absolute disdain, even though she was tied to a chair.
Viktor Rostov slammed his heavy hand down on the glass table, making the crystal glasses jump. "Shut your mouth, little bird! Your uncle signed the transfer papers. The three million is in our offshore account. But that still leaves seventy-seven million on the table. And since your precious Adrien Cole is too busy playing billionaire to answer our calls..."
"Adrien isn't playing anything," Vanessa interrupted, her chin held high. "He's smarter than you'll ever be, Viktor. The moment he finds those ledgers, your entire syndicate is going down in federal flames."
Viktor let out a booming, cruel laugh. "Let him come! This island is miles from international law. And by the time he figures out where you are, you'll be halfway to a container ship heading for South America."
Richard Vance nervously adjusted his collar, looking down at the checks. "Er, Viktor... we had a deal. The girl clears my personal gambling debts, and you wipe the secondary lien on the Westbridge property."
"A deal?" Viktor sneered, grabbing Richard by the lapel of his blazer and lifting him onto his tiptoes. "You brought us a broke girl and forged papers! You think you have room to negotiate with the Bratva, you pathetic worm?"
Outside in the bushes, I caught Marcus’s eye. I held up three fingers, counting down silently.
Three. Two. One.
With a deafening crash, I kicked the sliding glass door off its reinforced tracks, sending shards of safety glass exploding across the marble floor.
Marcus was through the opening a microsecond later, his Sig Sauer leveled squarely at Viktor’s chest.
"Drop him," I commanded, my voice echoing through the open-concept living room with the cold, lethal authority of a man who had nothing left to lose.
Viktor froze, his grip loosening on Richard’s jacket. Richard collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.
"Adrien?!" Vanessa gasped, her eyes going wide with shock and terror as she looked at me standing in the doorway with a gun in my hand. "Are you out of your mind? What are you doing here?!"
"Saving my fiancée," I said, never breaking eye contact with Viktor Rostov. "And collecting a debt."
Viktor slowly released Richard and raised his hands, a slow, ugly grin spreading across his scarred face. "Well, well. The golden boy of Charlotte decided to show up. You think a little pistol is going to save you on my island, Mr. Cole?"
"I don't need a pistol," I said, stepping further into the room while Marcus kept the enforcer covered. I pulled my tablet from my coat and tossed it onto the glass table, right next to the cashier's checks.
Viktor glanced down at the screen.
"What is this?" he muttered.
"That," I said coldly, "is a live data feed connecting directly to the U.S. Treasury, Interpol, and the federal bank accounts where your syndicate has been laundering money through Cole Dominion Holdings for the last five years."
Viktor’s smile vanished. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" I tapped my watch. "Every transaction your front companies made has been decrypted using the private keys my father left in the basement archives. If my heart stops beating—or if I press this single red button on my tablet within the next sixty seconds—an automated data burst goes out to every federal agency in North America and Europe. Your entire organization goes up in smoke before dinner."
The color drained entirely from Viktor’s face. He looked at the tablet, then at me, weighing the odds of a man who looked like he had crossed hell to get here.
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"You're insane," Viktor whispered.
"No," I replied, stepping past him and pulling a tactical knife from my belt to slice through the zip-ties binding Vanessa’s wrists. "I'm just a man who finally learned how to trust the right person."
