Chapter 7 - The Contract of Guilt
The rain fell heavily over the steel and glass skyscrapers of the Financial District. At the top of the forty-story Falcone Tower, Victor Falcone stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, sipping thirty-year-old whiskey.
Sitting on the plush leather sofa behind him was Cordelia Vance, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Her father, Harlan Vance, sat in the corner, staring blankly at the floor like a broken man.
"Why hasn't my mother called back yet?" Cordelia demanded nervously, biting her manicured nails. "She left for the Calloway estate three hours ago!"
Victor turned around, letting out a dark, mocking laugh. "Your mother was a distraction, my dear. A disposable pawn. Whether she succeeded in poisoning the maid or got captured, it doesn't matter. The trap is already set."
Harlan looked up, terrified. "What do you mean, disposable pawn?! That's my wife!"
"Shut your mouth, Harlan," Victor snarled, slamming his glass onto the table. "You came to me begging for protection because you were too stupid to control your daughter. You owe me twenty million dollars for hiding you from the federal police. You don't get a say in how I conduct my war against Royce Calloway."
Suddenly, the lights inside the lavish penthouse flickered violently once, twice, and then went completely out!
The entire forty-story building was plunged into pitch darkness!
"What the hell?" Victor shouted, pulling a silver pistol from his shoulder holster. "Guard! Check the generator!"
Before his head bodyguard could respond, the heavy reinforced steel doors of the penthouse burst open with a deafening explosive blast!
CRASH!
Smoke and flashbang light erupted into the room! Screams rang out as Victor's mercenaries were systematically disarmed and knocked unconscious in total darkness by silent, highly trained shadows in tactical gear.
When the smoke cleared and the emergency red backup lights flickered on, Victor found himself surrounded by ten armed men.
And walking through the middle of the smoke, unhurried and calm, was Royce Calloway.
Cordelia screamed, scrambling backward on the sofa until she hit the wall. Harlan dropped to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.
Victor Falcone glared at his long-time rival, his gun pointing directly at Royce’s chest. "Calloway... you walk into my fortress with a handful of men? You're insane!"
Royce didn't even draw a weapon. He stood ten feet away, adjusting his cufflinks calmly. "Your fortress? Victor, I bought the electrical grid and security company for this entire building three years ago. I own the air you are currently breathing."
Victor’s hand trembled slightly on the trigger. "If you step any closer, I'll put a bullet through your heart!"
"Try it," Royce said softly.
A red laser dot instantly appeared on Victor’s forehead from a sniper positioned on the opposite skyscraper building.
Victor froze. Sweat dripped down his temple. He knew he was completely outmatched.
Royce stepped closer, his voice dark and commanding. "Where is the contract you made with Harlan Vance?"
Harlan stammered from the floor. "In... in the safe behind the painting! The pass code is 0412!"
Marcus immediately walked over, swung open the hidden painting, unlocked the safe, and retrieved a thick stack of legal documents and illegal offshore transfer papers. He handed them directly to Royce.
Royce scanned the papers briefly, a cold smile touching his lips. "Embezzlement, extortion, illegal arms trading, and attempted murder. This is enough to put you, Harlan, and Cordelia away for three life sentences without parole."
"You think you can just hand that to the police?!" Victor spat, glaring. "The police can't touch me!"
"I'm not handing it to the city police," Royce replied smoothly. "I'm sending it directly to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the International Criminal Court. They have been hunting you for five years, Victor."
Victor’s face drained of all color. Federal charges meant no bail, no corrupt local judges, and no escape.
Royce turned his gaze to Cordelia, who was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner.
"Please... Mr. Calloway..." Cordelia begged, her arrogant pride completely shattered. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll apologize to Della! I'll beg for her forgiveness on live television! Just don't let them take me to prison!"
Royce looked at her with pure, icy coldness. "You had no mercy when you pushed a pregnant woman into broken glass. You had no mercy when you sent her mother to poison her. Why should I show mercy to you?"
He turned to Marcus. "Notify the federal authorities. Tell them the Falcone syndicate and the Vance family are waiting for collection."
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"Yes, Boss," Marcus said.
As sirens began to wail in the distance below, Royce turned his back on his ruined enemies and walked out into the stormy night, ready to return to the only woman who mattered.
