Chapter 8 - The Empire’s HeartThe flight to New York was a blur of frantic phone calls and encrypted messages. While we flew through the night, Liam’s security team coordinated with my few trusted allies on the Sterling board.
By the time the sun began to peek over the Manhattan skyline, painting the clouds in shades of bruised purple and gold, we were speeding toward the Sterling Private Care Facility in a blacked-out SUV.
"I've frozen the access codes to the executive accounts," I told Liam, scrolling through my tablet. "But Thomas has a physical key to the trust vault. If he gets Arthur's thumbprint on the proxy document, the bank will release the controlling shares."
"We won't let him get the print," Liam promised, checking the magazine of a sleek black pistol before sliding it back into his shoulder holster. I stared at the weapon.
"Is that necessary?" I asked.
"Thomas pushed a man off a balcony to protect his money," Liam replied flatly. "Assume he is armed and cornered."
We pulled up to the facility. It was a sprawling, ultra-exclusive estate surrounded by high wrought-iron gates. My heart hammered as I flashed my CEO credentials at the gate guard. The man paled but buzzed us through.
We didn't wait for the receptionist. We marched straight toward the VIP wing.
As we rounded the corner to Arthur's suite, two massive private security guards stepped in our path. They weren't Sterling employees; they wore the insignia of a private mercenary firm. Thomas's men.
"Ms. Sterling," the taller one said, holding up a hand. "Your uncle left strict orders. No visitors. Your grandfather is resting."
"Move," I commanded, my voice echoing down the pristine hallway.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't do that."
He reached for his radio, but Liam moved with terrifying speed. Before the guard could press the button, Liam drove his palm upward into the man's throat, sweeping his leg simultaneously. The guard went down hard, gasping for air. The second guard reached for his weapon, but Liam already had his pistol drawn, aiming directly at the man's chest.
"I strongly suggest you reconsider your employment choices today," Liam said coldly.
The guard slowly raised his hands and backed away.
I slammed open the double mahogany doors to Arthur's suite.
The room was dim. At the center of the bed lay my grandfather, pale and frail, an IV line snaking into his arm. Standing over him, holding an ink pad and a stack of legal documents, was Nurse Wilkins.
May you like
And standing by the window, his suit disheveled and his eyes bloodshot, was Thomas.
"You're too late, Elena," Thomas snarled, brandishing a signed document. "He’s already given me the proxy."
Related Stories
