Chapter 78 - Ashes of the Dynasty
Before the heavy fire door could swing shut, a single gunshot cracked through the penthouse suite.
Julian’s desperate wheezing ceased instantly.
I paused on the iron grating of the staircase, my heart freezing in my chest.
Slowly, through the narrow vertical glass panel of the door, I looked back.
Eleanor stood over Julian’s body, her sidearm lowered, a thin ribbon of blue smoke rising from the barrel. Julian lay completely still among the shattered glass, a single bullet wound centered between his eyes.
Eleanor didn't look at him for a second longer. She stepped over his corpse as if he were nothing more than a discarded piece of trash, her cold green eyes scanning the smoky room until they locked directly onto the window of the utility door.
Directly onto me.
"Clara," she called out, her voice calm, commanding, terrifyingly maternal. "Julian is dealt with. His mercenaries will be neutralized by automated defenses in three minutes. Open the door. The helicopter is waiting."
I looked at her through the reinforced glass, holding Noah against my beating heart.
"You executed him like an animal," I said, my voice muffled by the steel door.
"He was a rabid animal," Eleanor replied, stepping closer, tapping the electronic keypad on the door. The red light flashed: *LOCKED FROM INTERIOR.* Her eyes narrowed. "He was a liability. Just as you will become if you do not walk through that door right now."
"You want Noah because of his blood," I said, backing slowly down the stairs. "You don't care about me. You never cared about me. You just wanted an heir you could control."
"Noah belongs to the dynasty, Clara!" Eleanor’s voice lost its composure, cracking into fierce rage. She raised her firearm, aiming directly at the reinforced viewing glass. "I gave you life! I built this empire for you! Do not make me choose between my legacy and my daughter!"
"You already made that choice twenty-two years ago," I said.
I reached out with my left hand and yanked the bright red emergency lever beside the landing: `FIRE SUPPRESSION: HALON GAS PROTOCOL.`
Screaming alarms immediately blasted through the penthouse. Heavy, airtight blast doors slammed down from the ceiling with the force of hydraulic guillotines, completely sealing Eleanor Vance inside the main suite. Through the viewport, I saw high-pressure white halon gas flood the chamber, extinguishing all oxygen to suppress the fire—and suffocating anyone trapped inside without a breathing apparatus.
Eleanor pounded her fists against the bulletproof glass, her face contorted in furious, silent screams, her eyes blazing with murderous betrayal.
May you like
I didn't stay to watch her suffocate. I turned and ran down the iron stairs, carrying my baby into the dark.
***
