Chapter 5 - THE MAN IN THE TUXEDO"Curiosity, Mr. Vance," the silver-haired man said smoothly, his voice carrying an aristocratic British accent that echoed chillingly off the damp brick walls, "has been the downfall of your family for generations."
Pendelton stood slightly behind the man, his expression deferential, like a loyal hound waiting for its master's command.
Ethan instinctively pushed Lupita behind him, keeping his body between her and the barrel of the silenced pistol.
"Who are you?" Ethan demanded, his voice echoing in the underground vault.
"You may call me Mr. Sterling," the man replied with a polite, mocking nod. "I represent the consortium of stakeholders who actually finance the Grand Regent. Your grandfather understood our arrangement. He looked the other way, took his multi-million-dollar annual dividends, and kept his mouth shut. But your father... well, your father grew soft in his old age. And your wife? Your wife was dangerously ambitious."
"You killed her," Ethan said, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. "You and Victor ran her down on that dark street three years ago."
Sterling sighed, lowering the pistol slightly with an expression of mild annoyance. "An unfortunate necessity. Sarah copied the primary decryption keys onto a physical drive and threatened to hand them to the federal authorities. We offered her a partnership. She spat in our faces. So, we arranged a simple traffic accident. A tragic end for a young mother."
"And now you're going to do the same to me," Ethan said, his eyes scanning the tunnel walls for any heavy object, any tool, anything to fight back with.
"Naturally," Sterling said calmly. "An unfortunate double tragedy on the anniversary of your wife's death. The grief-stricken young heir, unable to cope with the loss of his father and the haunting memory of his wife, takes his own life in a fit of despair in the hotel’s basement. It writes itself, doesn't it, Arthur?"
Pendelton nodded eagerly. "A clean narrative, sir. The board will take over full control of the trust tomorrow morning, and Vance Hospitality will be fully integrated into our global portfolio."
Sterling raised the pistol back to eye level, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. "Any last words, Mr. Vance? For old time's sake."
Ethan didn't flinch. Instead, a grim, defiant smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah," Ethan said clearly. "You forgot about the silent call."
Sterling’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"
At that exact moment, a deafening roar of sirens echoed down the subterranean tunnel from the 5th Avenue exit behind Sterling. Red and blue strobe lights flashed violently against the wet brick walls, casting wild, dancing shadows across the tunnel.
"Federal agents! Drop your weapons! Hands where we can see them!" a voice boomed through a heavy megaphone from the far end of the railway spur.
Sterling whirled around, his face draining of all color. Pendelton panicked, stumbling backward against the server rack.
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Ethan didn't wait. He lunged forward like a sprinter springing from the blocks, tackling Sterling around the waist just as the silver-haired man tried to swing the pistol toward the advancing federal officers.
The gun went off with a dull thump, the bullet burying harmlessly into the dirt floor as Ethan and Sterling crashed hard onto the concrete.
