Chapter 3 - Blood, Snow, and RetributionThe sound of bone meeting knuckles echoed sharply in the quiet snowy night.
Viktor Vance stumbled backward off the porch, crashing hard into a drift of fresh powder. He spat a mouthful of blood into the white snow, his eyes widening in utter disbelief. For a man accustomed to buying everyone and everything in his path, getting punched by a billionaire tech mogul in a residential driveway was a shock to his system.
"You—you absolute lunatic!" Vance snarled, wiping his bloody lip with the back of a pristine leather glove as two massive men in heavy black coats emerged from the shadows of a parked SUV parked down the street.
My body hummed with pure adrenaline. I didn't wait for them to reach us. I stepped off the porch, closing the distance between Vance and myself with predatory speed.
"You ruined my family," I growled, grabbing the lapels of his expensive cashmere coat and hauling him up to his feet. "You terrorized my wife while she was carrying my child. You think a corporate lawsuit or a federal subpoena is going to touch you? Let me show you what happens when you cross a Rowan."
Vance's bodyguards rushed forward, shouting warnings, but they slammed to an abrupt halt as the sound of screaming sirens pierced the winter air.
Red and blue lights suddenly flashed against the snowy pine trees, painting the street in emergency hues. Three unmarked black sedans and two Bellevue police cruisers swerved onto the snow-packed street, doors flying open.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation! Nobody move!" a voice bellowed through a megaphone.
Vance’s face turned the color of ash. He stared at the approaching federal agents, then back at me, his eyes wide with sudden, unadulterated terror. "You... you set me up."
"Not me," I said, letting go of his coat and watching him drop back into the snow like a sack of garbage. "The Rowan legal team has been building a RICO case against your shell corporations for months. I just gave them your exact GPS coordinates."
As federal agents swarmed Vance and his bodyguards, cuffing them face-down in the snow, I stood breathing heavily, wiping a drop of blood from my knuckles.
Emily stood in the doorway, the porch light illuminating her tear-streaked face. Noah let out a soft, sleepy coo, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside.
I turned slowly back toward the house, walking up the steps like a man walking toward an altar. When I reached the threshold, I stopped inches from Emily.
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"Are you safe?" I asked, my voice cracking, the icy billionaire facade completely gone, replaced by a man utterly undone by the woman standing before him.
Emily nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling. "We’re safe, Gavin. It’s... it’s finally over."
