Chapter 8 - The Trap Springs
"Daniel..." Julian stammered, taking an instinctive step backward toward the balcony doors. "You... you were supposed to be—"
"In a ditch on Highway 9?" Daniel finished calmly, stepping into the center of the room. "Or murdered in my hotel bed at 1:00 AM by your head of security?"
Julian’s jaw worked silently, no words coming out as he realized his entire life, his reputation, and his stolen empire had just collapsed in front of the most influential investors in the world.
"For three years, I let the world believe I was a thief," Daniel said softly, looking around the room at the investors who had once turned their backs on him. "I let you destroy my career, my reputation, and my marriage because I didn't have the paper trail to prove my innocence."
Daniel touched the flash drive hanging from a silver chain around his neck.
"But three days ago, your corrupt accountant in Zurich finally cracked under federal investigation," Daniel revealed smoothly. "Every dollar you stole from Calloway Hospitality, every dollar you funneled into shell accounts, and every bribe you paid to frame me is right here."
Julian looked wildly around the room. He saw the cold, murderous glare of Everett, the disgusted looks of the investors, and the firm, unwavering stance of Emma standing beside the laptop.
Panic seized him completely.
Julian suddenly lunged toward Daniel, his hand diving into his inner jacket pocket as if reaching for a concealed weapon!
"Daniel, look out!" Emma screamed.
Before Julian could pull his hand free, Everett moved with terrifying speed.
Everett stepped into Julian’s path, grabbed Julian’s wrist in an iron grip, and twisted it downward with vicious precision!
CRACK!
Julian let out a blood-curdling scream of pain as his wrist dislocated, dropping a sleek silver pocket knife onto the hardwood floor.
Everett slammed Julian face-first onto the mahogany presentation table, pinning his arm behind his back with effortless, crushing force.
"You tried to kill my brother," Everett growled into Julian’s ear, his voice trembling with a dark, lethal rage. "You tried to endanger my niece."
The heavy oak doors burst open once more, and four uniformed Boston Police officers rushed into the ballroom, handcuffs ready.
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"Julian Vance," the lead officer declared sternly. "You are under arrest for grand larceny, corporate fraud, and attempted murder."
As the officers dragged a sobbing, bleeding Julian out of the ballroom, the entire room remained frozen in stunned silence.
