Chapter 7 - The Mastermind Unmasked
Grant didn’t need a weapon to be lethal.
The moment his hands were free, he moved like a tempest. He grabbed the nearest Blackwood gunman, disarmed him in a fraction of a second, and used the weapon to lay down devastating suppressing fire.
Marcus and the Whitmore security team swept through the warehouse, neutralizing Blackwood’s mercenaries with military precision. Silas Blackwood attempted to flee toward a waiting speedboat at the dock edge, but Marcus cut him down with a non-lethal shot to the leg, pinning him to the floor.
Meanwhile, Julian Vance sprinted toward the rear emergency exit, clutching his leather briefcase containing the stolen shipping deeds.
Claire saw him.
“Julian!” Claire shouted, her voice cutting through the ringing sirens.
Julian turned around wildly, raising his pistol to shoot her.
Claire didn’t flinch. She picked up a heavy, forty-pound steel tie-down hook from a nearby rigging crate and hurled it with all the force of a woman who spent eight hours a day lifting heavy dough troughs.
The heavy steel hook struck Julian squarely in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him crashing backward onto the wet concrete!
His gun skidded across the floor, falling directly into the dark waters of the harbor.
Grant walked up slowly, his heavy boots echoing on the concrete as he stood over his former lawyer. He picked up Julian by his lapels, lifting him off the ground with terrifying strength.
“You killed my wife,” Grant whispered, his voice trembling with a rage that shook the entire warehouse. “You tried to steal my daughter. And you tried to destroy the woman who protected her.”
“Grant... please!” Julian wheezed, his eyes wide with absolute terror. “It was Blackwood! He forced me!”
“Save it for the federal prosecutors,” Grant growled. He tossed Julian like trash into Marcus’s waiting handcuffs.
Grant turned around and walked toward Claire. He was covered in water, blood, and rain, his shirt torn, but his eyes were focused entirely on her.
Claire stood near the shipping crates, breathing heavily, wet flour dripping from her sweater.
Grant reached out, taking her face in his broad hands. He looked into her eyes with a raw, powerful emotion that needed no words.
“You came for me,” Grant whispered.
May you like
“I told you,” Claire said softly, a tired but brilliant smile touching her lips. “We finish this together.”
Grant pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck, holding her so tightly that Claire could feel the powerful, steady beat of his heart.
