Chapter 9 - The Roof Confrontation
I slammed the heavy metal door shut behind me as I reached the sprawling, rain-slicked roof of the warehouse.
Julian kicked the door open a second later, limping heavily from the deep wound in his thigh.
The cold night rain washed the blood from his leg, but his eyes still burned with absolute, murderous hatred.
We were completely alone on the rooftop, isolated from the chaotic gunfight still raging in the warehouse below.
He backed me slowly toward the unprotected edge of the building, mirroring the exact same abuse from the morning he first hit me.
He pulled a small, silver pistol from his jacket and aimed it directly at my chest.
He mocked me, saying that no amount of forensic accounting could save me from a bullet.
I stopped backing away and stood perfectly still near the treacherous drop to the concrete alley below.
I told him that he was incredibly predictable, and his arrogance was always his greatest weakness.
I reached into my wet jacket and pulled out my secondary cell phone, the one he never knew existed.
The screen was glowing brightly in the dark, displaying a live video feed connected to a massive group chat.
I informed Julian that I was not just recording this final confrontation for my own protection.
I had been live-streaming the entire warehouse meeting, including his desperate confession, directly to the FBI task force.
I had also sent the live link to the cartel's rival factions, exposing the boss's weakness and location to his worst enemies.
Julian stared at the phone in absolute horror as he realized his crimes were now highly public and completely undeniable.
His hand trembled violently, and he lowered the pistol, his mind completely broken by the sheer magnitude of his defeat.
He looked over the edge of the roof, realizing he had absolutely nowhere left to run and no one left to manipulate.
He turned back to me, screaming that if he was going to prison, he was taking me with him.
He lunged forward with a terrifying roar, intending to tackle me over the edge of the building.
I did not try to fight him or run away from his desperate attack.
I simply stepped quickly to the side, letting his own blinding momentum carry him forward.
Julian slipped violently on the wet gravel, completely losing his balance as he crashed into the low parapet wall.
He teetered on the edge for a terrifying second, his arms windmilling desperately in the cold rain.
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Before he could fall, the heavy metal door to the roof was kicked entirely off its rusted hinges.
My father stormed onto the roof, grabbed Julian by the collar of his expensive suit, and threw him forcefully backward onto the solid roof.
