Chapter 8 - The Federal Trap"Aunt Sarah?" Grace breathed, staring at the monitor in utter disbelief.
"You called the Feds?" Alexander asked, looking down at her with a mixture of shock and respect.
"Not just the Feds," Grace said, a grim smile touching her lips. "Eleanor called her three weeks ago. My aunt has been running a shadow investigation into Mercer Global’s legacy assets for six months. They didn't just come here for Marcus; they came here for my father’s exoneration."
Outside the panic room door, the muffled sounds of shouting abruptly stopped.
Through the corridor intercom, a booming voice echoed through the estate: "Federal Bureau of Investigation! Drop your weapons! You are completely surrounded!"
Alexander pressed the release switch on the control panel.
Hiss-clank.
The heavy steel door slowly slid open, revealing the smoke-filled expanse of the library. Through the shattered windows, searchlights cut through the stormy night. Federal agents in tactical gear had subdued Marcus’s mercenaries, pinning them face-down on the ruined Persian rugs.
Standing in the center of the carnage was Director Sarah Vance, her sharp eyes scanning the room before locking directly onto Grace—and then on Alexander.
"Alexander Mercer," Director Vance said, stepping forward with her badge held high. "You're coming with us. Along with Senator Prescott and Ms. Prescott."
Alexander didn't flinch. He raised his hands slowly, stepping out of the panic room with Grace right beside him.
"On what charge, Director?" Alexander asked smoothly.
"Conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and possession of classified state defense assets tied to Project Janus," Director Vance replied, her gaze shifting to Marcus, who was being hauled up by two federal agents in zip-ties.
Marcus spat blood onto the floor, glaring hatefully at Alexander. "You think you've won, Mercer? Check your personal phone. The public leak is already live. By sunrise, Mercer Global’s stock will hit zero, and everyone will know your father was a criminal!"
Alexander reached into his pocket, pulled out his encrypted smartphone, and unlocked it.
The screen flashed red. A major breaking news alert from every financial network in the world was broadcasting live from Times Square.
“BREAKING: Mercer Global Holdings Faces Immediate Liquidation Following Massive Insider Trading and Embezzlement Scandal Involving COO Marcus Thorne and Senator Harrison Prescott...”
Alexander watched the ticker without a single muscle twitch in his face. The empire he had spent fifteen years building—the massive skyscrapers, the shipping lanes, the billions in wealth—was evaporating in real-time.
He looked over at Madeline, who was sobbing uncontrollably as federal agents slapped steel cuffs onto her wrists. He looked at Senator Prescott, whose political career had just imploded in less than sixty seconds.
And then, Alexander looked at Grace.
May you like
She was standing beside him in the ruined library, her discount Newark dress stained with ash and rain, her auburn hair falling loosely around her shoulders.
For the first time in his life, Alexander Mercer felt completely free.
