Chapter 10 - THE FINAL DICES"Don't move an inch!" Julian roared, stepping closer to the car, his finger twitching nervously on the trigger of his gun. Damon stood right beside him, his expression cold and desperate. "Put the laptop on the dashboard, Ryan, or I swear I'll put a bullet through your new wife's head first."
Ryan slowly placed his hands on the steering wheel, casting a sideways glance at me. But beneath the dashboard, his fingers were still dancing across the keyboard of the open laptop.
"You've lost, Uncle Julian," Ryan said, his voice entirely calm, almost chillingly steady. "Look at your phones."
Julian frowned, glancing down at his pocket where his phone was vibrating violently. "What are you talking about?"
"Federal marshals don't need wiretaps when the entire global network automatically broadcasts your IP addresses to the SEC the moment you draw a weapon on US soil," Ryan explained, a triumphant smile breaking across his face. "The geofence trap has been locked for three minutes."
Right on cue, the wailing sound of approaching sirens shattered the night air. Not just one or two police cars—a massive convoy of federal enforcement vehicles and tactical units swarmed the boathouse from all directions, their blinding red and blue lights painting the walls in flashing colors.
"Drop your weapons! Federal agents! Drop your weapons now!" a booming voice echoed through a megaphone outside.
Damon panicked, lowering his gun slightly to look toward the door. "Dad... we need to run—"
"Shut up!" Julian yelled, grabbing Damon’s arm. But it was too late.
The side doors of the boathouse were blown open by tactical charges. Armed federal agents flooded the room, moving with terrifying speed and precision. Within seconds, Julian and Damon were slammed hard onto the concrete floor, their hands zip-tied behind their backs as the heavy steel handcuffs clicked into place.
As Julian was dragged past our car, his face pressed against the dusty window, he glared at us with pure venom. "You think you've won, Ryan? The Sterling family name is ruined forever! You're a nobody!"
"Maybe," Ryan replied coolly, rolling down the window an inch. "But at least I’m my own man."
The agents cleared the area, leaving us alone in the quiet aftermath of the raid. The storm had finally passed, washing away the decades of lies, deceit, and toxic ambition that had held the Sterling family hostage for twenty-five years.
Ryan turned back to me in the quiet stillness of the car. The velvet ring box was still resting on the center console between us.
"Well?" Ryan asked, a hopeful, nervous smile touching the corners of his lips. "What do you say, Katherine? Ready to start over with a broke, untitled, but completely honest husband?"
I looked at the ring, then up into his eyes. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a genuine humility and a love that had survived the ultimate trial by fire.
I picked up the ring box, slipped the diamond onto my finger, and leaned over the console to kiss him.
"Only if I get to be CEO of the new company," I whispered against his lips.
May you like
Ryan laughed—a bright, genuine sound—and pulled me close. The empire was gone, but our real life was just beginning.
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