Chapter 6 - THE FIXER IN THE STUDY
Ethan stared at the glowing tablet, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.
The brilliance of his brother’s cruelty was staggering. Marcus wasn’t just going to steal the company and Oliver; he was setting Ethan up to take the fall for the entire four-billion-dollar embezzlement scheme. A mentally unstable, disabled man who cut corners on a federal project and caused a catastrophic failure. It was the perfect scapegoat.
“The ribbon-cutting is tonight at 8:00 PM,” Ethan said, his voice hollow. “The FBI Director, the Governor, and the foreign investors will all be standing on that glass platform. Once Marcus shakes their hands and signs the final grant papers, the money vanishes offshore, and I get locked in a psych ward.”
“Then we stop him,” Lily said, her voice fiercely determined. “We take this tablet, the sheared bolt Oliver found, and we drive straight to the FBI field office in Baltimore.”
Ethan nodded. He grabbed the tablet and shoved it into his leather messenger bag. “Get Oliver. We leave right now.”
Lily ran up the sweeping marble staircase to Oliver’s playroom. The little boy was watching cartoons, blissfully unaware that his entire life was hanging in the balance.
“Come on, buddy,” Lily said gently, grabbing his small coat. “We’re going for a ride with your dad.”
“Are we getting ice cream?” Oliver asked, his big grey eyes lighting up.
“The biggest one you’ve ever seen,” Lily promised, her heart breaking for the child’s innocence.
She led Oliver down the back servants' stairs, hoping to avoid Marcus. They reached the ground floor study, a massive room with mahogany bookshelves and a heavy oak door that led out to the private garage where Ethan’s modified van was parked.
Ethan was already there, his wheelchair humming quietly as he waited by the door.
But as Lily reached for the brass handle, the lock clicked loudly from the outside.
The door opened.
Victor Hale stepped into the study.
The venue manager wasn't holding a clipboard today. He was wearing a dark tactical jacket, and his eyes were completely devoid of the bureaucratic annoyance he had shown at the terminal. He looked entirely lethal.
Answer One, Open Two. Victor wasn't just a corporate event planner. He was Marcus’s private fixer. The man who sawed through the railing. The man who likely cut Sarah’s brake lines three years ago.
Victor stepped inside and locked the heavy oak door behind him, plunging the key into his pocket. Two massive security guards stood visible through the hallway windows, blocking any escape.
“Going somewhere, Ethan?” Victor asked smoothly, pulling a suppressed pistol from his jacket.
Oliver screamed, hiding behind Lily’s legs. Lily instinctively threw her arms out, shielding the boy, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“Let the boy and the girl go, Victor,” Ethan commanded, wheeling himself forward, placing his chair directly between the gun and Lily. “This is between me and Marcus.”
“Marcus is already on his way to the gala,” Victor smiled, raising the weapon. “He left me here to clean up the mess. The kid goes to boarding school in Switzerland tonight. But the waitress? She’s going out the window. A tragic plunge onto the terrace stones. The stress of the accident yesterday was just too much for her.”
“You won't get away with this,” Lily yelled, her eyes desperately scanning the room for a weapon. A heavy bronze lamp sat on the desk nearby, but it was too far away.
“I already have,” Victor chuckled. He aimed the gun directly at Lily’s chest. “Goodbye, Miss Carter. You really should have just kept pouring the champagne.”
Victor’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Suddenly, a massive crash shattered the silence of the study.
One of the grand, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the driveway exploded inward in a shower of broken glass.
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Through the jagged opening stepped a woman holding a heavy iron tire iron, breathing heavily, her face twisted in absolute, terrified rage.
It was Denise.
