Chapter 4 - THE TRAP IS SPRUNG
I didn't drop the gun. But I didn't fire, either.
Slowly, deliberately, I lowered the barrel toward the concrete floor while keeping my finger outside the trigger guard.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Vincent,” I said without turning around, recognizing the low, raspy breathing of my own head of security standing inches from my spine.
“Business is business, Boss,” Vincent whispered darkly, pressing the cold steel barrel of his own pistol firmly against the base of my skull. “Julian offered a better retirement package than you ever did.”
Across the warehouse, the voices stopped. Geller dropped his wrench with a loud, metallic clatter against the concrete, while Julian turned around, his polished face breaking into a cool, unbothered smile as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.
“Adrian—excuse me, Calder,” Julian called out, strolling casually toward us through the gloom, his Italian leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the floor. “I must admit, you’re harder to kill than a cockroach. We expected you to spend at least two hours chasing ghosts across Brooklyn before you figured out the locket.”
“You used a six-year-old child to draw me out?” I asked, my voice dangerously low, vibrating with a rage so pure it felt cold.
“We used whatever was convenient,” Julian corrected smoothly, stopping ten feet away and crossing his arms. “Thomas Vance stole fifty million dollars in liquid capital from our offshore accounts before he fled. His wife knew where he stashed the ledger, but she wouldn't talk to us. So, we let her daughter slip away to find a protector with a bleeding heart. And who better than the great Calder Moretti?”
Sarah Vance raised her bruised head, her dark eyes locking onto mine through the gloom. “Don't listen to him, Calder!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “He’s lying! Thomas didn't steal anything! Julian has been embezzling from your shipping accounts for three years to fund a hostile takeover!”
Julian’s polite smile didn't waver, but his eyes flashed with sudden, venomous malice. He stepped forward and delivered a vicious backhand across Sarah’s face, snapping her head to the side. A fresh line of blood trickled from her lip.
“Shut your mouth, whore,” Julian hissed.
Every muscle in my body tensed. My finger twitched on the grip of my Sig Sauer.
“Ah-ah,” Vincent murmured behind me, pressing his gun harder into my skull. “Don't even think about it, Boss. One twitch and your brains paint this concrete.”
“You think you’ve won, Julian?” I said, keeping my eyes locked on my CFO. “You think killing me here in an abandoned pier solves your math problem? My lawyers have dead-man switches set to trigger across three different federal jurisdictions the moment I miss my hourly check-in.”
Julian chuckled softly, a dry, humorless sound. “Oh, Calder. Do you really take me for an amateur? We didn't plan on keeping you around long enough for a check-in. Vincent here is going to stage a very unfortunate, very tragic shootout between a rogue mafia boss and a disgruntled employee.”
He turned to Geller. “Cut the woman loose. Put her in the trunk of Moretti’s Tahoe. The kid is still in the back seat, right?”
My heart stopped.
Marco. I had left Marco and Emma in the Tahoe parked outside.
If Julian’s men moved on the vehicle while Marco was sitting blind in the front seat—
“Don't touch them,” I growled, taking a half-step forward.
Vincent immediately pistol-whipped me across the shoulder, sending a sharp wave of pain radiating down my arm and forcing me to my knees. The Sig Sauer clattered out of my hand and slid across the concrete.
“Stay down!” Vincent snarled.
Julian walked over, looking down at me with an expression of supreme pity. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, metallic flash drive.
“This little drive contains all the forged transfer documents, the dummy corporations, and your complete digital signature,” Julian said, dangling it in front of my face. “By midnight, Moretti Enterprises will belong to me, and you’ll be sleeping at the bottom of the East River with your boots full of concrete.”
He nodded to Geller and another thug who had emerged from the shadows. “Go secure the Tahoe. Bring the kid inside.”
“Wait!” Sarah cried out, straining against her ropes. “Don't hurt my baby! Take me! Take the ledger! Just leave Emma alone!”
Julian ignored her, turning on his heel and walking toward the exit.
As Geller and his partner headed toward the heavy steel doors to execute their orders, I didn't look down at the concrete. I looked at the massive overhead crane controls mounted on the structural pillar five feet to my left.
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Vincent was still standing behind me, distracted by Julian’s departure, his gun slightly lowered as he watched them leave.
I didn't wait for permission. I launched myself backward, slamming my shoulder directly into Vincent’s chest with the force of a battering ram.
