Chapter 88 - A Mother’s Reckoning
Julian looked pale, a sterile white medical bandage wrapped around his neck where I had severed his carotid line during our fight at Elysium. His designer suit was torn, his eyes bloodshot, manic, filled with the desperate hunger of a wounded predator backed into a corner.
In his right hand, he held a sleek, carbon-fiber submachine gun pointed directly at my chest.
"You're hard to kill, Clara," Julian sneered, descending the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. "Most wives would have taken the settlement. Most wives would have cried in court and taken five million dollars and a townhouse in Connecticut. But you... you had to burn down the entire kingdom."
"You were going to butcher your own son," I said, my voice dead, level, stripped of all humanity. "You were going to carve him up for your grandmother’s telomere therapy."
Julian didn't even flinch. A twisted, bitter smile crept onto his face.
"Do you have any idea how much money is sitting in this room, Clara? Two trillion dollars. The cure for aging. The keys to immortality. Eleanor controls half the senators in Washington and three prime ministers in Europe. When she survives, I become the undisputed CEO of Vance Global. Noah wouldn't have suffered. We would have kept him in a cryogenic coma."
"He's a human being, Julian! He’s your blood!"
"He's an asset!" Julian barked, his face twisting in sudden rage. "Just like you were an asset! Did you really think I fell in love with you at that charity gala four years ago? Your father had the only pure, non-synthetic bloodline markers compatible with Eleanor’s HLA profile! We hunted you, Clara. We cultivated you like prize cattle. And now, the harvest is due."
He raised his weapon, his finger tightening on the trigger.
"Step away from the crate, Clara. Hand me the boy, and I'll make sure your death is quick."
I didn't step away. I stepped forward, shielding Noah’s crate entirely with my body.
"You forgot one thing, Julian," I said softly, my thumb hovering over the red emergency override button on the master server console behind my back.
Julian’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
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"You built this bunker to withstand nuclear war," I whispered. "Which means the fire-suppression halon tanks in the ceiling are pressurized to fill this entire chamber in twelve seconds."
Before he could pull the trigger, I slammed my palm down on the console.
