Chapter 8 - The Final Reckoning"Look out!" Elizabeth screamed.
She didn't hesitate. With lightning-fast reflexes, she raised the butt of her HK MP5 and brought it down hard across the side of Vincent's skull with a sickening crack.
Vincent collapsed instantly, tumbling sideways out of his chair and crashing heavily onto the conference room floor, blood pooling from a deep laceration near his temple. He lay there motionless, unconscious and broken.
Marcus hung limp in my grip against the glass window, gasping for air as my fingers slowly relaxed their stranglehold.
I let go, letting him slump to the floor in a pathetic heap.
"It's over, Andrew," Elizabeth said softly, lowering her weapon and stepping over Vincent's unconscious body to stand beside me at the window. The first rays of the morning sun were breaking over the East River, bathing the Manhattan skyline in a brilliant, golden glow.
I looked down at my hands. They were clean of blood, yet somehow felt heavier than ever. For six years, I had believed the lie that my enemies were entirely external—rival families, federal agents, street thugs. I never suspected that the rot had started from within my own bloodline, festering quietly while I played king.
"Not quite yet," I said quietly.
I pulled out my satellite phone, dialing a direct extension that connected straight to the precinct captain on my payroll.
"Captain," I said into the receiver the moment the line connected. "This is Andrew James. I have a full confession regarding corporate embezzlement, conspiracy, and premeditated murder waiting for you at my downtown corporate tower. Send a team. And bring body bags for the traitors."
I clicked the phone shut and slid it back into my pocket.
The air in the room felt lighter. The oppressive weight that had suffocated my chest for nine weeks—ever since the day Emma died and my son lost his voice—suddenly lifted.
Elizabeth turned to look at me, her expression a complex mix of lingering grief, exhaustion, and an unfamiliar spark of peace.
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"What do we do now?" she asked quietly.
"We go home," I replied, extending my hand toward her. "Alex is waiting for us."
