Chapter 10 - The Family We Choose
Arthur laughed maniacally, completely willing to blow up the entire facility if it meant destroying the evidence of his crimes.
He gloated that if he released the pressure on the red button, the explosive charges would instantly obliterate us all.
I slowly stood up and walked directly toward the billionaire, ignoring the terrified screams of the children behind me.
I told Arthur that if he triggered the explosives, he would destroy the very genetic material he needed to save his own pathetic life.
Arthur hesitated, his sick desperation for survival fighting a brutal war against his arrogant desire for revenge.
That tiny moment of hesitation was all the heavily armed FBI tactical team needed.
The ceiling of the sub-basement was suddenly breached by a massive, shaped explosive charge deployed by federal agents above us.
Dozens of elite agents dropped through the gaping hole on fast-ropes, instantly surrounding the shocked billionaire.
An FBI sniper shot the detonator cleanly out of Arthur's hand with pinpoint precision, rendering the dead man's switch useless.
Arthur was tackled to the floor, handcuffed, and dragged away screaming about his unlimited wealth and legal immunity.
The lead federal agent, who had been tipped off by a heroic social worker, wrapped a warm blanket around my bleeding shoulders.
I fell to my knees and pulled all five crying children into a massive, desperate, beautiful hug.
Six months slowly passed, and the horrific nightmare of Arthur Sterling’s illegal empire faded into the past.
The federal court officially granted me full, uncontested legal custody of all five incredible siblings.
With the financial compensation from the massive lawsuit against Arthur's estate, I rebuilt my destroyed house into a sprawling, beautiful mansion.
I stood on the back porch with a hot cup of coffee, smiling brightly as I watched my children laugh and play in the sunny yard.
The terrifying battles were finally over, and we were safe, happy, and bound together by an unbreakable love.
As I turned to go inside, I noticed a sleek, black envelope shoved partially underneath my heavy wooden front door.
I opened it to find a high-resolution photograph of a woman who looked exactly like the children's late mother, standing right in my new driveway.
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Written on the back of the photo in fresh, dark red ink were the chilling words: "You did a wonderful job keeping my clones safe, but now I am taking them back."
A heavy, terrifying knock suddenly rattled aggressively against the wooden door.
