Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF BETRAYALVance snatched the pistol from the drawer and aimed it with a trembling hand straight at Daniel’s chest.
"Stay back! I swear to God I’ll put a bullet through your heart!" Vance shrieked, spittle flying from his lips.
Daniel didn't even slow his pace. He walked right down the center of the room, ignoring the barrel of the gun as if it were nothing more than an extended finger.
"You put my mother in a dirt hole under a bridge, Richard," Daniel said softly, his voice carrying the terrifying stillness of a frozen lake.
"She was garbage! A demented old bag who didn't know her own name!" Vance screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Marcus begged me to get rid of her! He paid me to make her disappear so she wouldn't ruin his campaign! I was just a businessman doing a favor for a client!"
Daniel stopped two feet away from the desk. He looked down at the gun barrel, then up into Vance's terrified eyes.
"A businessman," Daniel repeated quietly. Then, with lightning speed, his hand shot out, grabbing the steel barrel of the pistol and twisting it upward with bone-crushing force.
A deafening BANG echoed through the penthouse as the gun fired harmlessly into the reinforced ceiling sprinkler system, showering the room in a sudden, icy deluge of high-pressure water.
Daniel ripped the weapon from Vance's hand, tossing it across the room into a glass display case. Then, he grabbed Vance by the throat and slammed him backward against the floor-to-ceiling glass window.
The thick, triple-paned glass cracked outward under Vance's weight, bowing alarmingly over the fifty-story drop to the street below.
"Please... please, Daniel! I have money! Billions! I can give you everything!" Vance choked out, his heels kicking frantically against the wet floor as he looked down at the toy-sized cars crawling fifty floors below.
"I don't want your money, Richard," Daniel whispered into his ear. "I want you to understand what it feels like to lose everything you built in a single second."
Daniel relaxed his grip just enough for Vance to gasp for air, then stepped back, motioning toward the elevator doors.
"Vinny!" Daniel called out.
Vinny Russo stepped out of the elevator, holding a heavy steel briefcase and a digital recorder. Behind him, two federal marshals—corrupted years ago by Daniel's payroll—nodded grimly.
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"Federal arrest warrant for securities fraud, money laundering, and conspiracy to commit murder," Vinny recited monotonously, snapping steel handcuffs onto Vance's wrists. "And the best part, Richard? Marcus already cut a deal with the feds to save his own skin, throwing you entirely under the bus. You're going away for the rest of your natural life."
Vance went completely limp, his legs buckling beneath him as he realized he had been betrayed by everyone—including the golden boy he had tried to protect.
