Chapter 7 - The Battle for Tybee
Grant didn't flinch. He didn't scream, and he didn't lunge across the table. Instead, a cold, humorless smirk spread across his lips that made Desmond’s triumphant grin freeze in place.
Grant pulled his own phone from his pocket, pressed speaker, and laid it flat next to the dossier.
The voice that came through the speaker was not the panic of an overwhelmed sentry. It was the calm, methodical voice of Dr. Helen Chen, followed by the background hum of an industrial marine engine.
""Grant, we are three miles offshore aboard the cutter Valiant,"" Dr. Chen reported smoothly. ""Jolene is resting comfortably in the lower cabin. Her vitals are stable. We evacuated through the subterranean sea tunnel forty-five minutes before the perimeter alarms were tripped, exactly as you ordered.""
Desmond's face lost every drop of color. ""What... what did you say?""
Trent spoke up from the doorway, his voice flat. ""And the four vehicles that breached the Tybee marsh road twenty minutes ago? My secondary squad pinned them in the causeway bottleneck. Moretti’s second-in-command is currently in custody, singing every detail of Desmond’s distribution contract to the state troopers in exchange for protective custody.""
Desmond lunged to his feet, knocking his chair backward, but Trent was faster. The barrel of Trent’s weapon pressed cold and unyielding against the center of Desmond’s forehead, freezing him in his tracks.
""You were predictable, Uncle,"" Grant said, stepping around the table. ""You’ve used the same distraction tactics since my father took the Savannah harbor in 1998. You think because I loved Jolene, I stopped thinking like a Holloway. Loving her didn't make me weak. It gave me something worth being ruthless for.""
Grant looked around the table at the remaining board members. ""Desmond Holloway has committed high treason against this syndicate. By the bylaws written by my father, what is the sentence?""
Arthur Vance didn't hesitate. ""Exile and forfeiture of all assets, or blood.""
""No blood in this room,"" Grant decreed, his voice devoid of mercy. ""Sign the transfer of all Holloway shares, personal holdings, and trust accounts over to the family foundation. Trent will escort you to a secured compound upstate. You will never see the sun without an armed escort, you will never hold a dollar that isn't rationed to you, and you will spend the rest of your miserable life knowing that the girl you tried to erase is the mother of the child who will rule everything you coveted.""
Desmond fell to his knees, his hands trembling as Trent shoved the transfer documents and a pen before him. He signed with shaking fingers, his vanity and arrogance completely crushed beneath the weight of Grant's calculated checkmate.
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""Take him out of my sight,"" Grant ordered.
As Desmond was dragged through the double doors, screaming curses that faded down the long marble corridor, Grant turned to Trent. ""Prepare the helicopter. Fly me to the Valiant. My wife is waiting.""
