Chapter 4 - The Betrayal at Home
“I must admit, Dante,” Dr. Sterling said smoothly, stepping over the shattered pieces of the front entrance. His voice was cold, clinical, and completely devoid of humanity. “I didn't expect you to walk into the lion’s den yourself. But it saves me the trouble of hunting you down in Queens.”
Sterling waved his gloved hand calmly. His tactical team immediately spread out, raising their rifles and aiming them directly at Dante, his two guards, and my mother.
“Harrison!” Mom screamed, standing up and backing toward our wheelchairs. “What is the meaning of this? Why are armed men in my house?”
Sterling looked at Mom with pitying contempt. “Oh, Celeste. You really were a magnificent front for the company. The grieving widow building a biotech empire. But you were always too soft. You actually believed Julian’s death was a tragic accident.”
Mom froze. “What did you say?”
“Julian was going to ruin everything,” Sterling said, taking a slow step toward us. “He wanted to give the cure away. He wanted to publish the patents open-source! Do you have any idea how many billions of dollars that would have cost our investors? I had to cut his brake lines myself.”
A sharp, agonized gasp escaped Mom’s lips. She covered her mouth, staggering backward until her back hit the armrest of my wheelchair.
“You... you killed Julian?” she whispered.
“He was a brilliant scientist, but a terrible businessman,” Sterling replied indifferently. He turned his gaze onto Esme and me, his eyes locking onto the blue metallic cylinders sitting in our hands. “And now, his brave little daughters have brought me the final piece of his research.”
“You won't touch them,” Dante said softly.
Dante hadn't flinched when the doors blew open. He hadn't raised his hands. He stood between Sterling’s gun barrels and our wheelchairs like an unyielding mountain.
“Dante, please,” Sterling scoffed, holding up a small remote detonator. “I have twelve men surrounding this perimeter. My mercenaries have already disabled your outer security team. You are outnumbered, outgunned, and trapped in a glass mansion. Hand over the girls and the blue cylinders, and I might let Celeste live to sign over her remaining voting proxy.”
“You missed one detail, Doctor,” Dante murmured.
Sterling frowned. “What detail?”
“You came into a house owned by Julian Voss,” Dante said, a dark, dangerous smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Julian didn't just build a home. He built a fortress.”
Dante reached into his pocket and pressed a small brass button on a antique pocket watch.
Instantly, thick blast shutters of solid steel slammed down over every floor-to-ceiling window in the ballroom with a thunderous CLANG.
The lights went completely black.
Panic erupted.
“Fire!” Sterling roared.
Gunfire echoed through the darkness, bright muzzle flashes illuminating the chaos like lightning strikes. But before the mercenaries could aim, Dante moved with terrifying, lethal speed. I heard the sharp sound of breaking glass, heavy bodies hitting the marble floor, and Dante’s calm, steady voice calling out through the dark:
“Ivy! Esme! Grab the arms of your chairs!”
I didn't hesitate. I reached over, gripped Esme’s hand tightly, and held onto the armrest of my wheelchair with everything I had.
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Underneath our chairs, heavy mechanical gears locked into place.
The section of marble floor beneath our wheelchairs suddenly gave way, dropping us into a smooth, darkened chute that plunged deep into the foundation of the estate.
