Chapter 8 - The Bloody Confrontation
The terrifying sound of the gunshot completely shattered the quiet winter night.
I abandoned all stealth and aggressively kicked the heavy glass patio doors until they shattered into a million pieces.
I rushed into the massive living room and found Silas lying on the floor, bleeding heavily from a wound in his shoulder.
My father stood over him with a smoking pistol in his hand, his face twisted in absolute rage.
Clara was screaming hysterically in the corner, holding a terrified Josephine tightly by her small arm.
My father aimed the weapon directly at my chest and demanded that I slide the briefcase across the floor.
I looked at Silas, who gave me a weak but encouraging nod despite his agonizing pain.
I calmly informed my father that I had already emailed the entire digital ledger to the regional director of the FBI.
I told him that dozens of heavily armed federal agents were currently swarming his offshore bank accounts.
My father's arrogant expression instantly vanished, replaced by an incredibly pathetic look of pure panic.
He dropped the pistol and fell to his knees, realizing his massive criminal empire had completely evaporated.
I slowly walked over and kicked the weapon far across the expensive hardwood floor.
I turned my attention to Clara and firmly demanded that she let go of my crying daughter immediately.
Clara frantically grabbed a sleek metal lighter from the coffee table and dragged Josephine toward the fireplace.
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The massive stone hearth was completely filled with the company's shredded paper archives and sensitive documents.
Clara flicked the lighter open and threatened to burn the entire mansion to the ground with all of us trapped inside.
