Chapter 34 - The Fall of Marcus Kane
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"Get her out of my sight," I ordered.
Viktor grabbed Melissa by her hair, hauling her off the floor while she sobbed frantically, begging for mercy. She was dragged away to a state psychiatric facility where my lawyers had already filed permanent commitment papers under fictitious medical names. She would spend the rest of her life in a padded room, completely forgotten by the world.
By 3:00 AM, our convoy of six black armored SUVs was speeding north toward Greenwich, Connecticut.
Marcus Kane's private compound was a twenty-acre estate surrounded by ten-foot stone walls and high-tech security cameras. But Kane was ruined. His bank accounts were frozen, his cartel lieutenants had abandoned him, and the mercenaries he hired were fleeing as federal arrest warrants were issued nationwide.
When our convoy crashed through the heavy iron front gates, there was no epic gun battle.
Kane's remaining three guards immediately threw their weapons onto the lawn, raising their hands in surrender. They knew the Yates Syndicate was standing outside, led by the woman who had dismantled an international drug empire in less than forty-eight hours.
Dad and Viktor kicked open the grand front doors of the mansion.
We found Marcus Kane sitting alone in his sprawling library, surrounded by empty whiskey bottles, holding a loaded nickel-plated revolver to his own temple. He looked haggard, his designer clothes rumpled, his eyes wild with panic.
When he saw me walk into his library—supported by my gold cane, flanked by my father and twenty armed men—Kane let out a bitter, raspy laugh.
"The truck driver's daughter," Kane sneered, his hand shaking around the revolver. "I should have killed you myself the night your husband called me."
"You tried, Marcus," I said calmly, stopping ten feet away from his desk. "You sent a hammer to my knees, a needle to my dog, and a hit squad to my docks. And yet, I'm the one standing here, while you're sitting in the ruins of your life."
Kane looked at my father, then back at me. "What are you going to do, girl? Shoot me?"
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"No," I replied, pulling a thick stack of federal indictment papers from my coat and dropping them onto his desk. "Death is an easy way out, Marcus. The FBI is outside your gates right now. You're going to spend the rest of your life in a maximum-security federal prison, broke, forgotten, and watching my family rule everything you built."
Kane stared at the papers as the wail of federal sirens echoed in the distance. He slowly lowered the gun from his temple, realizing he had lost completely.
