Chapter 13 - Face to Face
The blast doors to the control room gave way with a thunderous screech as Marcus planted another tactical charge. The steel buckled inward, and I stepped through the smoke into the heart of Vance’s operation.
The room was vast, dominated by a semicircle of glowing monitors displaying global financial markets, satellite feeds, and Hayes Global security grids.
Sitting in a leather executive chair at the center of the room was Julian Vance. He wasn't cowering. He held a glass of expensive scotch in one hand, swirling the amber liquid as he turned to face me. He looked older than his photographs—graying temples, cold calculating eyes, and a terrifyingly calm smile playing on his lips.
"Amelia Hayes," Vance said, his voice smooth and cultured, echoing in the cavernous room. "I must admit, flying all the way to Switzerland in the middle of the night just to deliver your own execution notice... that is a special kind of ambition."
I raised my carbine, resting the barrel dead-center on his chest. My finger hovered lightly over the trigger. "You miscalculated, Julian. You thought my father's empire died with him. You thought I was just a rich girl you could marry off to a pawn like Richard and quietly liquidate."
Vance chuckled softly, taking a slow sip of his scotch. "Richard was a fool. Too greedy, too impatient. I built this empire brick by brick, Amelia. You think a few frozen offshore accounts can stop a decade of planning?"
May you like
"I don't think," I replied coldly, stepping closer. "I know. Because your offline accounts? The ones you thought were safe in Zurich's legacy vaults? They were legally seized thirty seconds ago by the Swiss Federal Banking Commission under my emergency counter-terrorism mandate."
Vance’s smile vanished instantly. The glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the steel floor, the amber scotch splashing across his Italian leather shoes.
