Chapter 18 - THE MAN BEHIND THE MASKFor a fraction of a second, the three intruders froze under the blinding glare of the floodlights.
Then, the lead operative let out a cold, raspy laugh. He slowly lowered his rifle, reached up, and pulled off his Kevlar balaclava.
The face beneath it was gaunt, pale, and lined with deep wrinkles, framed by thinning gray hair. But the eyes—sharp, glittering with malicious intelligence and bitter vengeance—were unmistakable.
It wasn't a hired gun. It was Julian Vance.
Nathan froze on the upper landing, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. "Julian... you old bastard. Everyone thought you died in that fire."
"Fire leaves scars, Nathan, but it doesn't kill a man who has nothing left to lose," Julian sneered, coughing slightly before flashing a yellow, crooked grin. "You took everything from me ten years ago. You stole my company, you ruined my reputation, and you built your glittering empire on the bones of my life’s work."
"You built your empire on extortion and fraud!" Nathan retorted, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. "You tried to destroy my mother while she was dying in a hospital bed. You brought this on yourself!"
Julian let out a sharp, barking laugh. "And now I’m going to watch you burn down everything you love. Look around, Nathan. You think I came here alone? You think this estate is the only thing we targeted tonight?"
My blood ran cold. I stepped out from the shadows of the upper hallway behind Nathan, gripping my sidearm tightly. "What do you mean?"
Julian’s eyes locked onto me, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Ah, the little maid who caught the billionaire's eye. Did you really think my associates were only interested in a simple break-in here? While you were playing security guard, my secondary team intercepted the private vehicle transporting your mother’s final estate archives—and more importantly, the legal vault holding the fifty-million-dollar trust transfer keys."
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Nathan’s face turned the color of ash. "You lied. That vault is secured offsite in a federal depository."
"Is it?" Julian mocked, pulling a small, encrypted tablet from his tactical vest and tapping the screen. "Check your corporate network feed, Nathan. Right now, automated smart-transfers are draining every liquid asset out of Cole Global Industries into an offshore holding account. In five minutes, you won't just be ruined—you’ll be bankrupt."
