Chapter 15: The Devil’s Checkmate
“Drop the gun, Julian!” Maya screamed, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at the tablet.
The glowing red laser dot rested perfectly in the center of her younger sister’s forehead. Zara was just standing there on her porch in New Jersey, holding a cup of coffee, completely oblivious to the fact that a sniper was a millimeter of trigger-pull away from ending her life.
Richard Sterling let out a dark, booming laugh that echoed off the high ceilings of the Park Avenue penthouse.
“Did you really think a man in my position doesn’t have contingencies?” Richard taunted, leaning back against his mahogany desk, fully ignoring the barrel of Julian’s gun still pressed against his temple. “You think you’re the only one who can play the hostage game, Vance?”
“Julian, please!” Maya begged, tears instantly spilling over her cheeks. She grabbed Julian’s arm, her fingers digging into his black dress shirt. “He’ll do it! Tell him to stop! Zara has nothing to do with this!”
“You have exactly three seconds to put the gun on the floor, Julian,” Richard sneered, his eyes dancing with psychotic triumph. “Or I press this button on my phone, and the sniper takes the shot. One.”
Julian did not move the gun. His eyes were locked onto the tablet screen, his face entirely unreadable.
“Two,” Richard counted, his thumb hovering over his smartphone screen.
“Julian!” Maya shrieked, sheer panic tearing her throat apart. “Put it down! I don’t care about the patents! Let him have them!”
Julian slowly lowered his weapon.
Richard smiled, a sickening display of absolute arrogance. “Good boy. Now, kick it across the room. And then, Ms. Ademi is going to take that lovely gold fountain pen, and she is going to sign a document confessing that she stole the designs from my daughter.”
Maya sobbed, nodding frantically. “I’ll sign it. Whatever you want. Just call off the sniper.”
“Oh, the sniper stays on target until you are both out of my building,” Richard corrected smoothly. “And if you ever breathe a word of this to the press, the next bullet goes through your mother’s window. Do we have an understanding?”
Julian stood completely still. He looked down at the tablet. Then, slowly, a low, terrifying chuckle rumbled in his chest.
Richard’s smile faltered. “What is so funny, you arrogant street thug?”
“You made one catastrophic miscalculation, Richard,” Julian said softly, his voice echoing in the dead silence of the room.
“I hold all the cards, Vance,” Richard spat.
“No,” Julian replied, tilting his head. “You assumed I only started protecting Maya today.”
Maya looked up at Julian, her tear-filled eyes wide with confusion.
Julian didn’t look at her. He kept his deadly gaze fixed on the billionaire. Slowly, Julian reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his encrypted cell phone. He tapped a single button and put it on speaker.
“Ghost Team,” Julian commanded clearly. “Status.”
A voice crackled through the phone’s speaker, loud enough for Richard to hear. “Target is secure, Boss. We neutralized Sterling’s hitter in the bushes across the street about twenty minutes ago.”
Richard’s face went entirely pale. “That’s impossible. Who is on the radio?!”
“Then whose laser is currently on Zara’s forehead?” Julian asked into the phone, completely ignoring Richard’s panic.
“That’s our laser, Boss,” the voice chuckled darkly over the speaker. “Just keeping it there to see if Sterling was stupid enough to bluff. The kid is safe. We have a perimeter around the entire block.”
Maya let out a massive, shuddering gasp, her knees buckling as the wave of relief crashed into her.
“You’re lying!” Richard screamed, wildly tapping the button on his phone. “Take the shot! I said take the shot!”
Silence.
Nothing happened on the tablet screen. Zara just took a sip of her coffee and walked back inside her house, closing the front door behind her.
The tablet went black.
The color completely drained from Richard’s face. He dropped his phone, the device clattering against the hardwood floor.
“You see, Richard,” Julian whispered, stepping forward until he was inches from the billionaire’s face. “When I owe a blood debt to someone, I don’t just protect them. I protect their family. I protect their friends. I protect the ground they walk on. I had a tactical team stationed outside her sister’s house three months ago.”
Richard backed away, his chest heaving in absolute terror. He bumped into the edge of his desk, completely trapped.
“Now,” Julian said, raising the matte-black pistol and pressing it directly between Richard’s eyes. “Pick up the pen.”
In a game of life and death, would you have folded to save your family, or would you have trusted the underworld boss to have a backup plan?
