Chapter 13 - Victor had always been the quietest man in the room.That was why he was dangerous.
He didn't need to shout.
Didn't need to threaten.
He simply stood there while everyone else made mistakes.
Beatrice's hands were tied behind her.
Blood stained her cheek.
Victor pressed the gun against her temple.
“Drop the weapons.”
No one moved.
He smiled.
“You have three seconds.”
I lowered my gun.
Daniel followed.
Luca did too.
Victor nodded.
“Much better.”
He looked at my mother.
“You survived longer than I expected.”
She glared at him.
“You should have killed me.”
“I wanted you to watch.”
“Watch what?”
Victor smiled.
“Your sons destroy each other.”
He gestured toward the television.
Every screen switched on.
News footage showed Chicago police raiding my businesses.
Warehouses.
Restaurants.
Accounts frozen.
Victor had arranged everything.
My empire was collapsing in real time.
He turned toward me.
“You built an empire.”
He smiled.
“I built the cage.”
I stared.
“How long?”
“Twenty-three years.”
Everything suddenly made sense.
Every promotion.
Every betrayal.
Every rival.
Every murder.
Victor had been steering my life.
“You killed my father.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Your father killed himself.”
I froze.
“He chose to die.”
“Why?”
“To make you hate the right people.”
Victor laughed.
“And that was his biggest mistake.”
“What did he miss?”
“You.”
Silence.
Victor looked at Luca.
“Your brother was supposed to inherit the ledger.”
Then Daniel.
“The other was supposed to inherit the trust.”
Then me.
“And you were supposed to become the king.”
I stared.
“But your father made one fatal mistake.”
“What?”
“He loved his sons.”
Victor raised his gun.
“Love makes men weak.”
Luca stepped forward.
“No.”
Victor turned.
Luca said:
“Fear does.”
He pulled a knife from his sleeve.
One of Victor's men fired.
Luca dropped.
Beatrice screamed.
I lunged.
Daniel fired.
The room became chaos.
Victor dragged Beatrice toward the hallway.
I chased them.
We reached the hidden basement.
Victor opened a steel door.
Inside was the final vault.
He shoved Beatrice forward.
“Open it.”
I stared.
“You need my blood.”
“Yes.”
“And if I refuse?”
Victor smiled.
“Then she dies.”
I looked at Beatrice.
She shook her head.
“Don't.”
I stepped toward the scanner.
Blood sample required.
I pressed my hand against the panel.
The machine beeped.
Access denied.
Victor's face changed.
“Again.”
I tried.
Access denied.
He grabbed me.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at my mother.
She smiled.
“The trust doesn't recognize him.”
Victor turned.
“Why?”
“Because Antonio changed the succession.”
“What?”
My mother laughed.
“The master key isn't Adrian.”
Victor looked at Luca.
“Luca?”
“No.”
Then at Daniel.
“No.”
Then Samuel.
“No.”
She pointed at Beatrice.
Victor stared.
Beatrice looked at me.
And whispered:
“I'm the key.”
The room went silent.
Victor dropped his gun.
“You.”
Beatrice nodded.
“My father was the fifth architect.”
I felt the pieces click.
The Original Five weren't families.
They were bloodlines.
And Beatrice belonged to one.
Victor stepped backward.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
Beatrice stepped toward the scanner.
She placed her hand on it.
The vault opened.
Inside was a server.
Records.
Accounts.
Files.
And one final video.
A woman appeared.
Isabella.
Luca's mother.
Alive.
Victor turned pale.
She said:
“Victor, if you're watching this, then my son finally knows what you did.”
Victor whispered:
“No.”
The video continued.
“You didn't save Luca.”
“You stole him.”
“You murdered my husband.”
“You manipulated Antonio.”
“And you murdered the children who tried to expose you.”
Victor's face twisted.
Then the final sentence appeared.
But there was one person you could never control.
Beatrice Gallagher.
Victor raised his gun.
Beatrice stood directly in front of him.
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
The gun was empty.
Luca stepped from the shadows.
“Victor.”
Victor turned.
Luca held a gun.
“This time, you don't disappear.”
Victor looked at me.
Then laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
He pointed toward the ceiling.
A red light blinked.
“The vault is broadcasting everything.”
I froze.
“Everything.”
Every confession.
Every murder.
Every secret.
The entire city could hear us.
Victor smiled.
“And someone else is listening.”
A voice came through the speakers.
My father.
One final recording.
“If you've reached this point, then the real enemy has arrived.”
The room went silent.
Then my father's final words:
“His name is not Victor.”
May you like
Victor looked terrified.
And for the first time in twenty-three years, I saw fear in his eyes.
