Chapter 8 - THE FALL
The FBI agents breached the doors. The chaos that followed was beautiful in its precision.
Damian Blackwood didn't run. He couldn't. He simply collapsed into one of the velvet viewing chairs, his face gray, staring blankly at the ruined floor and the glowing, damning words across the masterpieces he had hidden for two decades.
"You're under arrest, Mr. Blackwood," the lead agent said, snapping handcuffs onto Damian’s wrists. "Conspiracy, grand larceny, art fraud, and we'll be reopening the arson and homicide investigation into the Morgan Gallery fire immediately."
Preston, however, didn't have his father’s frozen resignation.
As an agent reached for him, Preston snapped. He spun around, his face contorted in absolute rage, and snatched a heavy bronze stanchion from the velvet ropes.
"You ruined everything!" Preston screamed, charging directly at Anna.
Anna was still standing near the canvases, the guards having released her arms. She saw Preston coming, the heavy bronze weapon raised above his head. Time seemed to slow down.
She didn't flinch. She reached into her apron pocket, pulled out the final glass vial of the enzymatic solvent, and hurled it directly at his face.
The glass shattered against Preston’s chest. The highly volatile chemical splashed up into his eyes.
Preston dropped the stanchion, screaming in agony, clawing at his face as the ammonia burned. Two FBI agents tackled him to the floor, instantly subduing him.
Anna stood breathing heavily, her chest heaving, as she watched the billionaire's son writhe on the ground, crying like a child.
The Dubai royal walked slowly past the struggling Preston, ignoring him completely. He approached Elias, who had stepped into the room.
The billionaire bowed his head slightly. "Mr. Muski. It is an honor to finally meet the master. I apologize for nearly participating in the theft of your legacy."
Elias nodded graciously, though his eyes were fixed on only one person in the room. He walked past the buyer, past the arrested billionaires, and stopped in front of Anna.
He reached out with a trembling hand and gently touched her cheek, right where Preston had slapped her the night before. The bruise was dark and swollen.
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"You are exactly like your mother," Elias whispered, tears finally breaking free and rolling down his weathered face. "Brave. Brilliant. And completely unstoppable."
Anna threw her arms around the old man, burying her face in his shoulder. For the first time since she was a little girl watching a building burn, she finally felt safe. She finally felt like she wasn't fighting the world entirely alone.
