Chapter 7 - The Final Chess Move
Trapped by indisputable evidence, Julian’s polished corporate veneer dissolved into frantic, cornered panic. He reached inside his jacket, his hand darting toward a concealed shoulder holster with desperate intent. But before his fingers could wrap around the grip of his pistol, Soren—who had been safely waiting in the private security lounge with Mira under Vesper's watchful eye—suddenly walked into the boardroom holding an encrypted tablet. Wait, no—Marcus moved with blinding speed, kicking the edge of the mahogany table hard enough to slam it into Julian’s knees, sending the traitor crashing backward over his chair.
Two of Dante’s elite guards pounced instantly, pinning Julian face down against the carpet and relieving him of his weapon with ruthless efficiency. Julian screamed out in rage and terror as the steel handcuffs clicked tightly around his wrists. ""You can't do this to me! I am a Vance! I hold the board majority!"" Julian shrieked as he was hoisted to his feet by the guards. Dante didn't even deign to look at him as he was hauled toward the service elevators. ""You ceased being a Vance the moment you traded family for blood money,"" Dante said coldly, not raising his voice an inch. ""Take him to the deep-water facility. Let federal investigators audit every cent he stole while he rots in a federal penitentiary.""
As the heavy elevator doors slid shut on Julian’s muffled curses, the remaining board members sat in stunned, terrified silence, unanimously voting to transfer all executive assets back under Dante's direct, undisputed control. Elena stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city traffic move far below. The weight she had carried for three agonizing years—the constant paranoia, the sleepless nights, the terror of being hunted—finally lifted from her shoulders. The ghost story was over. The truth was out in the open, and the empire was secure.
