Chapter 9 - The Father's Downfall
Gregory did not flinch, slowly raising his head to look at his rebellious son.
"You won't shoot me, Nathan," Gregory said smoothly with patronizing disdain.
"You have always been cursed with your mother's weak, compassionate heart."
"That compassion died the second you pushed my wife down those stairs," Nathan said, taking two deliberate steps forward.
Damian panicked, his finger hovering over the red detonator switch.
"Stay back, Nathan! I'll blow this entire basement to pieces!" Damian screamed hysterically.
"Go ahead and press it, Damian," Nathan challenged, never taking his eyes off his brother.
"Look at the wiring on that receiver."
Damian glanced down at the plastic housing of the detonator in his trembling hands.
"Marcus disconnected the main receiver lines from the rooftop relay five minutes ago," Nathan revealed with a cold smile.
"You're holding an empty plastic shell."
Damian screamed in fury, throwing the useless detonator against the concrete wall and lunging toward a heavy wrench on the workbench.
Nathan sidestepped Damian's clumsy swing with effortless grace, driving a brutal knee into Damian's solar plexus.
The air exploded from Damian's lungs as he collapsed onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath.
Nathan stepped past his broken brother and stood inches from Gregory.
Gregory reached into his coat pocket for a concealed derringer, but Nathan grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.
Nathan squeezed until the elder man's bones groaned, forcing the gun to drop onto the concrete.
"The federal marshals just raided the estate, Gregory," Nathan whispered, leaning in close.
"Toby uploaded the complete unencrypted server archives to the United States Attorney General."
"Your offshore accounts, your political bribery ledgers, and the video of Damian attempting to murder Maya and my child."
Sirens wailed in the alley outside the basement loading bay as heavy boots pounded down the concrete corridor.
A tactical team of federal marshals burst through the vault doors, their assault rifles aimed squarely at Gregory and Damian.
"Gregory Cross, drop to your knees!" the marshal commander bellowed.
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Gregory looked at the armed agents, then back at Nathan, the realization of total defeat washing over his weathered face.
Slowly, the proud billionaire patriarch sank down onto the dirty concrete floor, his hands held high in absolute surrender.
