Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
Level B2 was dark, damp, and smelled of motor oil and cold exhaust.
I burst through the heavy steel service door, collapsing onto the concrete floor, my chest heaving violently. Before I could scramble to my feet, strong hands lifted me up.
“I have her,” Gideon’s deep voice rumbled.
He pulled me behind the armored bulk of a black Suburban just as the stairwell door behind me flew open. Two of Romano’s men stepped out, weapons drawn.
They didn't get the chance to fire.
From the shadows of the parking garage, four armed men in tactical gear stepped forward with ruthless efficiency. Two sharp concussions echoed through the cavernous space. Romano’s men dropped to the floor, instantly neutralized and disarmed before they even realized they had walked into an ambush.
Tires screeched against the slick concrete as a second black SUV drifted around the pillar, slamming to a halt.
Lucian stepped out before the vehicle had even completely stopped rolling.
He didn't look at the downed gunmen. He didn't look at Gideon. His storm-gray eyes swept the garage until they landed on me. In three long strides, he closed the distance, pulling me violently into his arms.
He crushed me against his chest, burying his face in my hair, his entire powerful frame trembling with an intensity that shocked me.
“You’re safe,” he whispered against my ear, his voice rough with emotion. “I have you. You’re safe.”
I clung to his lapels, burying my face into his wool coat, letting the adrenaline drain out of me until I was shuddering against him. For all his power, for all his terrifying influence, the terror in his voice when he had answered that phone call had been entirely real.
After a long moment, Lucian gently pulled back, framing my face with his hands. He inspected my forehead, my arms, checking for injuries with clinical precision. Satisfied I was physically unharmed, his gaze drifted toward the far corner of the garage.
Tied to a concrete support pillar, gagged and sobbing pathetically, was Kyle Bradley.
Next to him, trembling so violently she could barely stand, was Madison.
I gasped, looking from Kyle to Lucian. “How...?”
“Gideon intercepted them at O’Hare forty minutes ago,” Lucian said, his voice dropping into that chilling, lethal cadence. “They had one-way tickets to Miami, purchased with a cash transfer routed from one of Romano’s shell corporations.”
Kyle was writhing against his zip-ties, his eyes wide with animal panic as Lucian walked slowly toward him.
Lucian reached out and ripped the duct tape from Kyle’s mouth.
“Please! Mr. Moretti, please!” Kyle shrieked, tears and snot streaming down his pale face. “Romano threatened me! He said he’d kill me if I didn't get the files! I didn't have a choice! I called Harper to warn her—ask her! I tried to help her!”
“You used Harper as human shield to pay off your own fraudulent debts,” Lucian replied quietly, without an ounce of pity. “You stole from her heart, you stole from her dignity, and then you attempted to trade her life to save your own miserable skin.”
“Harper!” Madison screamed, her makeup running down her cheeks in black streaks. “Tell him! We’re cousins! We’re family! You can’t let him kill us!”
I stood beside Gideon, looking at the two people who had destroyed my life two months ago.
They looked so small. So utterly pathetic. All their arrogant posturing, their cruel sneers in the Merchandise Mart, their shallow vanity—stripped away to reveal the cowardly parasites they truly were.
I walked over, standing directly in front of Kyle.
“Did you get your grandfather’s watch back, Kyle?” I asked softly.
Kyle blinked through his tears, looking utterly baffled by the question. “W-what?”
“The watch,” I repeated, a cold, calm clarity settling over me. “The one you cared about more than four years of love. Was it worth this?”
Kyle could only sob, shaking his head in broken humiliation.
I looked at Lucian. “Don't kill them.”
Lucian raised a dark brow. “Harper, they put a target on your back.”
“Death is an easy out,” I said, my voice steady, carrying the absolute conviction of a woman who had finally reclaimed her power. “Kyle loves his status. Madison loves her social standing. Strip it away. Give the fraud evidence Vantage Capital has been burying to the federal regulators. Let Madison explain to our entire family why her influencer sponsorships evaporated and why the FBI is auditing her bank accounts. Let them live in the ruins of their own choices.”
Lucian studied me for a long, quiet moment. Then, slowly, a look of profound, unadulterated admiration swept across his features.
“Gideon,” Lucian commanded smoothly. “Deliver the financial dossier on Vantage Capital to the U.S. Attorney’s office. Strip Mr. Bradley of his credentials, seize their luxury leases, and ensure every country club from here to New York knows exactly who they are. Then dump them on the sidewalk outside Madison’s mother’s house in shame.”
“Understood, boss,” Gideon replied with a dark grin.
May you like
As Gideon’s men hauled the sobbing, screaming pair toward a waiting van, Lucian turned back to me.
“Now,” he said softly, offering his hand. “There is the small matter of Victor Romano.”
