Chapter 46 - The Broker's Ledger
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Luc Fontaine sat on a plush velvet sofa, a glass of expensive champagne in one hand and a stack of fifty-euro notes in the other. He looked up in sheer shock as Elias aimed a modified shotgun squarely at his chest, while I locked the reinforced door behind us.
"Luc Fontaine," I said, stepping into the dim, red light of the VIP suite. "My name is Emily Yates. Sarah's daughter. We need to talk."
Luc dropped his champagne glass. It shattered against the stone floor, the golden liquid seeping into the expensive Persian rug.
"Sarah's daughter?" he whispered, his eyes darting frantically between my face and the barrel of Elias's shotgun. "It is impossible. Sarah is dead. Victoria saw to that decades ago."
"I'm very much alive," I said, stepping closer, keeping my weapon leveled at his head. "And Victoria sent a hit squad to my home last night. So, I decided to return the favor by dismantling her empire. I want the ledger, Luc."
Luc let out a bitter, nervous laugh, running a trembling hand through his dark hair. "You think you can just walk in here and demand the Council's ledger? You are insane. Victoria will have us both skinned alive."
"Victoria isn't here," Elias grunted, pumping the shotgun with a terrifying metallic clack. "I am."
"If you give me the ledger containing the blackmail on the European Sovereigns, I will guarantee your safety in America," I offered coldly. "If you refuse, I will let Elias paint these walls with your brains, and I will take the ledger anyway."
Luc hesitated, greed and absolute terror warring in his eyes. He slowly reached under a sofa cushion. Elias tensed, ready to fire, but Luc slowly pulled out a small, heavily encrypted titanium hard drive.
"This is the Genesis Code," Luc said, his voice shaking. "It contains the blackmail, the banking routes, and the proof that Victoria ordered the assassination of your mother. She used Syndicate funds to hire the killers."
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Before I could reach out and take the drive, the reinforced door of the VIP room exploded off its hinges.
Flashbang grenades rolled across the floor, blinding the room in a searing white light. The deafening crack of automatic weapons filled the small space. Victoria’s assassins had found us.
