Seven months after our divorce, I walked into St. Catherine’s Women’s Hospital furious at my ex-wife and learned she had just given birth to twin boys—and both of them were mine. Before that night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and warn me to use it before my own family arrived. And even that was not the most shocking thing waiting for me.

The rain was relentless, pounding against the rusted tin roofs of the shipping containers lined along Pier 42 on the East River.

It was 5:45 AM. Fog hung heavy over the dark river water.

I stood alone in the center of the abandoned pier apron, holding the leather folder under my coat. My heart was pounding like a war drum, but my hands were entirely steady.

A sleek black Mercedes SUV pulled into the pier, its high-beam headlights blinding me with bright white light.

The doors opened.

Thomas Waverly stepped out, wearing a sharp cashmere coat, looking pale, disheveled, and unhinged. Flanking him were three heavily armed men in unmarked tactical gear—operatives from the Apex Syndicate.

"You should have stayed in the vault, Grant," Thomas yelled over the sound of the rain and river current. "You just had to play the hero, didn't you?!"

"Where are my sons, Thomas?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the storm like a blade.

Thomas laughed nervously, running a trembling hand through his rain-soaked hair. "They're fine! For now! The men at the hospital are waiting for my call! You hand over Father's will and the flash drive, and I tell them to stand down! It's that simple!"

"You're selling Father's legacy to the very people who hold your leash," I said, taking two slow steps toward him. "Look at yourself, Thomas. You're thirty-five years old, trembling in the rain, taking orders from mob enforcers because you couldn't control your own greed."

"SHUT UP!" Thomas screamed, pulling a sleek black pistol from his coat, pointing it directly at my chest! "You were always Father's favorite! The smart one! The golden boy! Father gave you everything, and he left me with nothing but scraps!"

"Father left you a thirty percent share of Waverly Logistics, Thomas," I said coldly. "You gambled it away in Macao in six months."

"Hand over the folder, Grant!" Thomas shook, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Hand it over, or I give the order to the men at St. Catherine's!"

I didn't reach for the folder. Instead, I pulled out my cell phone, holding the screen up so he could see the live video call displaying Room 418.

On the screen, Detective Robert Bennett and six armed SWAT officers were seen holding the two Apex enforcers flat on the hospital hallway floor in handcuffs!

"Your men at the hospital were taken down ten minutes ago, Thomas," I stated flatly. "You have no leverage. You have no cards left to play."

Thomas stared at the phone screen, his face turning ghost-white. "No... no, that's impossible..."

"DROP YOUR WEAPON!" a loud voice boomed from behind the shipping containers!

Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the entire pier as four police cruisers tore onto the wet concrete, cutting off all exit routes! Detective Robert Bennett stepped out from the lead car, his weapon drawn and leveled straight at Thomas’s head!

"It's over, Thomas!" Robert shouted. "Put the gun down!"

The three Apex mercenaries immediately threw their weapons onto the wet pavement, raising their hands in surrender.

Thomas stood alone in the rain, his gun shaking violently in his grip, staring at me with a mixture of terrifying desperation and broken pride.

"Grant..." Thomas whimpered, tears mixing with the rain on his face. "Please... don't let them take me... Apex will kill me in prison..."

"You made your choice six months ago when you framed my wife, Thomas," I said, walking up to him, gently taking the weapon from his trembling fingers, stepping back as officers tackled him to the ground and snapped steel handcuffs onto his wrists.

As they dragged my brother toward the police cruiser, I looked down at my watch.