Chapter 18 - The Final Ledger
"You're remarkably persistent, Damian," Victor said, his hands resting flat on the table, deliberately staying away from the laptop keyboard. "I'll give you that. Just like your father. Stubborn to the very last breath."
"My father made one mistake," Damian said, closing the distance between them until the muzzle of his carbine hovered inches from Victor’s chest. "He trusted men who measured loyalty in dollars instead of blood."
"Dollars built this empire, boy," Victor laughed softly, leaning back in his leather chair. "You think you can wash your hands clean by turning this syndicate into a legitimate corporation? The blood is in the foundation. It’s in the walls. You can't outrun what you are."
"I'm not running," Damian said, his finger tightening on the trigger. "I'm finishing it."
On the laptop screen, the transfer bar hit 99%.
Victor smiled, a wide, manic expression lighting up his pale eyes. "Too late, Damian. The transfer is complete. The accounts belong to—"
Before Victor could finish his sentence, the cabin lights flickered and died. The laptop screen went instantly black, the progress bar freezing permanently at 99%.
Victor’s smile vanished. "What did you do?"
From the doorway, Marcus stepped inside, holding a small EMP device that was still humming softly with residual energy. "Federal asset seizure, Victor. The moment you connected to our local satellite relay, the SEC and Interpol mirrored your accounts into a federal holding fund. You don't own a dime."
Victor lunged forward across the table, grabbing for a concealed pistol in his shoulder holster, but Damian was faster. He swung the heavy stock of his carbine downward, smashing it across Victor’s arm with bone-cracking force.
Victor cried out, collapsing backward into the chair, clutching his shattered wrist as blood began to seep through his sleeve.
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Damian stood over him, the red laser dot resting squarely between Victor’s eyes.
"It's over," Damian whispered.
