Chapter 7 - The Betrayal WithinSebastian spun around, but he was half a second too late.
Emerging from the ruined elevator shaft wasn't a Syndicate grunt—it was Elena Vance. Her emerald pantsuit was spotless, but her right hand held a heavy Glock 19, the barrel pointed with terrifying steadiness straight at Sebastian’s chest.
Sebastian froze, lowering his hands slowly. A dark, cynical smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“Elena,” he said, his voice as smooth as glass. “I wondered when the North Side was going to cash in their investment.”
Nina froze in horror, her hands flying to her mouth. “Elena? What are you doing? Are you insane? She’s your chief of security!”
“She was the highest bidder, Nina,” Elena corrected coldly, her eyes hard and glittering with greed. “The Syndicate offered twenty million and absolute control of the docks. Sebastian’s little crusade against white-collar crime was bad for business. Very bad for business.”
Sebastian didn't flinch. He stood tall amid the shattered glass, his dark eyes fixed on his former friend with absolute, lethal contempt. “You always did lack patience, Elena. Greed makes people sloppy.”
“Maybe,” Elena sneered, cocking the hammer of her pistol. “But it buys a very comfortable retirement in the Cayman Islands. Now, drop the weapon, Sebastian. Both of you.”
Nina’s mind raced at a million miles an hour. She looked at the gun. She looked at Elena’s unwavering finger on the trigger. Then she looked down at Cerberus.
The pit bull was still standing over the unconscious mercenary, but his amber eyes had shifted entirely toward Elena. His body was coiled like a compressed spring, every muscle rippling beneath his scarred, dark coat.
“Cerberus,” Nina whispered softly, praying to whatever gods were listening that the dog understood human nuance.
Elena caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and snapped her pistol toward Nina. “Don’t even think about it, little waitress—”
SNAP.
Cerberus didn't growl this time. He exploded into motion.
Seventy pounds of pure, unbridled muscle crossed the ten-foot gap in a fraction of a second. He slammed into Elena’s side with crushing force, sending the heavy Glock flying out of her hand in a wild arc across the shattered floor.
Elena screamed as she hit the ground, the dog standing over her with bared teeth, his heavy jaws hovering mere inches from her throat.
Sebastian moved with the speed of an apex predator. In two long strides, he crossed the room, scooped up Elena’s fallen pistol, and kicked it away into the darkness of the ruined hallway. He looked down at his former chief of security, his face carved from ice.
“Lock her in the vault,” Sebastian said coldly without looking back, as two loyal guards finally poured out of the emergency stairwell. “And call federal prosecutor Hayes. Tell him we have a complete confession on the North Side syndicate wire fraud.”
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Elena was dragged away screaming, kicking against the guards like a cornered animal.
The penthouse fell dead silent once more, save for the whistling wind howling through the shattered panoramic windows.
