Chapter 8
Every weapon in the hangar rose at once.
Marcus aimed at Margaret.
Federal agents aimed at Patricia's guards.
Owen kept one arm around my mother's throat.
Blake pointed his pistol at me.
My father remained in the center of it all.
Trapped.
Watching.
Margaret stepped closer to Patricia.
"I told you I would deliver Elena and the transfer."
Patricia studied her.
"You also delivered the FBI."
"They needed to believe I had changed sides."
Marcus's expression did not move.
But I saw the realization in his eyes.
Margaret had used us.
Again.
My mother stared at her sister.
"You knew about the safe apartment."
"Yes."
"You led Patricia to us."
"I led everyone here."
"Why?"
Margaret looked almost offended.
"Because Harrington Global was supposed to belong to me."
Patricia laughed.
"You still believe that?"
"William promised."
"William promised every woman whatever he needed at the moment."
"He signed an agreement."
"So did half the people in this hangar."
Margaret's gun shifted toward Patricia.
"I gave you twenty-two years."
"And I gave you money."
"You gave me scraps."
"Because that is what you earned."
The hatred between them was older than Blake.
Older than me.
Older than the empire they had helped build on stolen money.
Marcus spoke calmly.
"Margaret, lower the weapon."
She ignored him.
Patricia looked at the tablet in my hands.
"Begin the transfer."
"No."
Blake pressed his gun against my side.
"Do it."
I looked at him.
"You know she plans to leave you behind."
"Stop talking."
"Your father is arrested. Your company is gone. Margaret has betrayed everyone. And Patricia has one seat prepared on that jet."
His eyes moved toward the aircraft.
The door was open.
Inside, I saw one suitcase.
One coat.
One glass of champagne.
Patricia noticed him looking.
"Blake, do not listen to her."
"Where is my passport?" he asked.
"In the jet."
"Where?"
"Inside."
He looked at Owen.
Owen avoided his gaze.
Blake's breathing changed.
"Mother?"
Patricia's voice hardened.
"This is not the time."
"You said we were leaving together."
"And we are."
"There is one suitcase."
"Blake."
He took a step away from me.
Patricia raised her hand.
"Stay where you are."
The command sounded exactly like the one Blake had given me beneath the wedding table.
Stay seated.
Smile.
Obey.
For the first time, he heard how it sounded when the order was directed at him.
My father began coughing.
My mother struggled against Owen.
"He needs medication."
Patricia did not look at him.
"He needs to remain alive long enough to sign."
"Sign what?" I asked.
"An affidavit confirming that Elena and Margaret created the original loan fraud."
Margaret turned sharply.
"You said Thomas would implicate William."
"He will implicate whoever I require."
"You cannot frame me."
Patricia gave her a cold smile.
"My dear, I have been framing you for twenty-two years."
Margaret's face emptied.
Patricia continued.
"Every altered document contains your handwriting. Every illegal payment was approved through accounts linked to your aliases. When the authorities reconstruct the first Harrington fraud, they will find you waiting at the center."
Margaret's gun trembled.
"You said you destroyed those records."
"I said many things."
Marcus moved one step closer.
"Margaret, Patricia has no intention of protecting you."
"Stay back!"
Her voice cracked.
Marcus stopped.
"We can still make an agreement."
"You already refused."
"That was before you brought us to Thomas."
She looked at my father.
Then at my mother.
Then at Patricia.
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
Blake used the distraction to move toward the jet.
Owen blocked him.
"Where are you going?" Blake demanded.
"Your mother gave an order."
"I am her son."
Owen looked at Patricia.
She said nothing.
That silence was the answer.
Blake's face changed.
The spoiled heir disappeared.
In his place stood a frightened boy who had finally discovered that his mother loved control more than she loved him.
"You were going to leave me," he whispered.
Patricia sighed.
"You became careless."
"I did everything you asked."
"You fell in love with the target."
"I did not love her."
"You warned her before the wedding."
My eyes snapped toward Blake.
He looked at me.
The night before the ceremony, I had received an anonymous message.
Do not sign anything tomorrow.
I thought it had come from someone inside the company.
It had come from him.
Patricia continued.
"You also failed to destroy the forensic files. You allowed Daniel to survive. You brought the weapon upstairs without checking the escape route."
"I escaped."
"Because Owen helped you."
Blake looked at Owen.
Understanding spread across his face.
Every victory he believed belonged to him had been arranged by someone else.
He had never been the mastermind.
He had been another tool.
"I am your son," he said again.
Patricia's expression softened.
Only slightly.
"You are a liability."
Blake raised his gun toward her.
Owen struck his wrist.
The weapon fired.
The bullet tore into the jet's wing.
Fuel began spilling across the polished floor.
Everyone moved at once.
Marcus's agents rushed forward.
Margaret fired toward the ceiling.
Owen shoved my mother aside.
I dropped the tablet and ran to my father.
Blake tackled Owen.
Patricia grabbed the tablet.
A guard reached for me.
My father lifted one foot and struck the man's knee with surprising force.
The guard fell.
"Wheel me to the control room," he said.
His voice was weak.
His mind was not.
I pushed the wheelchair.
Bullets struck the concrete behind us.
Marcus shouted for everyone to stop firing because of the fuel.
A warning alarm began to pulse.
Margaret chased Patricia toward the jet.
"You are not leaving!"
Patricia clutched the tablet.
"Then complete the transfer for me."
"I do not have the authorization."
"Grace does."
Both women looked at me.
My father grabbed my wrist.
"Control room."
I pushed him inside.
He pointed toward a red lever beneath the security monitors.
"Pull it."
"What does it do?"
"Seals the hangar doors."
"Agents are still outside."
"Not those doors."
I pulled the lever.
Metal barriers dropped around the private jet.
Patricia and Margaret were trapped inside a reinforced fueling zone.
Blake and Owen were trapped with them.
Marcus, my mother, and the agents remained outside.
Thick glass separated us.
Patricia ran to the barrier controls.
Locked.
My father exhaled.
"She designed this room to trap others."
I looked at him.
"How did you know?"
"Because I helped build it."
My mother entered the control room.
She dropped to her knees beside him.
For several seconds, they only stared at each other.
Twenty-two years existed between them.
Children raised.
Birthdays missed.
Letters never delivered.
Lives stolen by people ten yards away.
Thomas lifted one trembling hand.
My mother pressed her cheek against it.
"I came back," he whispered.
"You took too long."
He smiled through tears.
"I know."
She kissed his hand.
Then the tablet screen lit up inside the sealed zone.
Patricia had initiated the transfer.
Daniel's voice came through the control room speaker.
"Grace, I can see the request."
I grabbed the microphone.
"Authorize phase one."
My mother looked at me.
"Are you sure?"
"The money goes to the federal receiver."
"What about the company?"
"She gets temporary control."
"For how long?"
"Four minutes."
Daniel entered the witness code remotely.
The transfer began.
Patricia smiled as numbers filled the tablet.
Harrington ownership moved into the trust.
Two hundred million dollars followed.
The FBI system captured every account.
Every routing number.
Every hidden beneficiary.
Marcus looked at his phone.
"We have them."
Inside the glass, Patricia tried to open the jet door.
It remained locked by the hangar seal.
Blake pounded against the barrier.
Owen searched for another exit.
Margaret stood completely still.
She finally understood.
No one was leaving.
The transfer reached ninety percent.
Then the control room lights flickered.
Thomas looked toward the fuel spreading across the floor.
"The barrier ventilation is automatic."
"So?"
"It pulls air from the fueling zone."
A spark flashed beneath the damaged wing.
Fire erupted.
The sealed zone filled with orange light.
My mother screamed.
Blake stumbled backward.
Owen grabbed a fire extinguisher.
Patricia clutched the tablet.
Marcus ran toward the emergency release.
"It is not responding!"
My father pointed toward the far wall.
"Manual override."
I found the wheel.
It would not turn.
Daniel's voice came through the speaker.
"Transfer complete."
The federal receiver had the money.
But four people were trapped with a growing fire.
Including the man who had tried to destroy me.
Blake pressed both hands against the glass.
His face was terrified.
"Grace!"
Even through the barrier, I heard him.
"Please!"
My mother grabbed the override wheel beside me.
Together, we pulled.
It moved one inch.
Then another.
The barrier began to rise.
Smoke rolled beneath it.
Marcus's agents dragged Margaret out first.
Owen crawled after her.
Patricia remained beside the jet.
She refused to release the tablet.
Blake ran toward the opening.
A section of burning metal fell behind him.
He tripped.
The barrier began descending again.
"System reset!" Thomas shouted.
I dropped to the floor and reached beneath the narrowing gap.
Blake stretched out his hand.
Our fingers touched.
For one second, I saw the man I had planned to marry.
The man who had laughed with me in grocery store aisles.
The man who had held me when I received my promotion.
The man who had lied through every gentle moment.
"Grace," he begged.
I grabbed his wrist.
Marcus grabbed mine.
Together, we pulled him beneath the barrier.
It slammed shut behind him.
Blake collapsed beside me.
Agents rolled him onto his stomach and handcuffed him.
He stared at me.
"You saved me."
"I saved the truth from becoming your excuse."
Inside the sealed zone, Patricia stood alone.
Flames surrounded the jet.
She held the tablet against her chest.
Then the screen changed.
TRANSFER REVERSED.
OWNERSHIP RESTORED TO ELENA CRUZ.
Patricia's scream pierced the glass.
The fire suppression system finally activated.
White foam exploded from the ceiling.
It covered her.
The jet.
May you like
The stolen tablet.
And the final image of the Harrington empire she had believed she could carry away.
