Chapter 20
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The old airfield hanger was a cavernous, echoing structure of rusted metal and cracked concrete, entirely abandoned save for the wind howling through the broken windows. Marcus stood exactly in the center of the vast space, his hands deep in his coat pockets, waiting.
Exactly on time, a sleek silver Mercedes pulled into the hanger. Julian Vance stepped out alone, carrying a slim leather briefcase. He looked around the empty, decaying building with a look of profound distaste.
"Dramatic choice of venue, Marcus," Julian echoed as he walked toward the center of the room. "But fitting, I suppose. This is where you leave your empire behind."
"Do you have the buyout agreement?" Marcus asked, his voice flat and emotionless.
Julian smiled, setting his briefcase on a rusted metal barrel between them and clicking it open. He pulled out a thick stack of legal documents.
"Everything is in order. You sign your controlling shares over to my holding company at the agreed discounted rate, and the internal audit immediately disappears. Your family's trusts will be unfrozen by this afternoon," Julian said, offering a silver pen.
Marcus didn't take the pen. He looked at Julian with an expression of pure, icy contempt.
"You really thought a black rose would terrify my wife?" Marcus asked quietly.
Julian chuckled, a dismissive, arrogant sound. "It was a necessary theatrical touch, Marcus. Women are emotional creatures. I knew if I made her feel unsafe, she would beg you to surrender to protect the baby. It was nothing personal. Just business."
"And funding Isabella Rossi? Was that just business too?" Marcus pressed, stepping closer.
Julian’s smile faltered for a second, but his ego refused to let him back down now that he thought he had won.
"Isabella was a useful tool," Julian admitted confidently, assuming they were completely alone. "She was obsessed with you. I just gave her the offshore funds she needed to cause a little chaos. I didn't tell her to hurt anyone; I just needed her to embarrass you enough to make the board question your stability. It worked perfectly."
"Thank you, Julian," Marcus said softly, stepping back from the barrel.
"Thank you?" Julian frowned, confused.
May you like
"For the confession," Marcus clarified.
Suddenly, the massive metal doors at the far end of the hanger slid open with a deafening screech. Three black FBI tactical vans swarmed into the building, their tires screeching on the concrete.
