Chapter 31 - The Blood Ledger
I took three slow steps forward and slotted the drive into Julian’s laptop.
Instantly, the screen flared to life. Lines of code began scrolling at blinding speed. Julian leaned forward, his eyes hungry, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"Checking cryptographic signature..." Julian muttered, his expression shifting from arrogance to confusion, then to blinding rage. "What is this? This isn't the sovereign ledger! This is a root worm—"
"Mark!" I yelled into my transmitter.
A split second later, the grand ballroom below plunged into pitch-black darkness as Vance cut the palace’s main power grid.
Screams erupted from hundreds of gala guests below. Emergency red auxiliary lamps flickered to life, casting demonic crimson shadows across Box Four.
Julian lunged across the table, his hands reaching for my throat. "You bitch!"
I didn't cower. I didn't step back.
Channeling every ounce of rage from the nights Daniel had cornered me in our bedroom, I sidestepped his charge, grabbed the heavy crystal scotch decanter from the table, and shattered it directly across Julian’s face.
Julian roared in agony, glass and amber liquor spraying across his tuxedo as he staggered backward, clutching his bleeding eye. Archduke Maximilian drew a silenced automatic from his coat, but before he could raise the barrel, the private door of Box Four was kicked violently off its hinges.
*Bang! Bang!*
Two silenced rounds punched through the Archduke’s chest. He collapsed into the velvet drapes without a sound.
Agent Caleb Vance stood in the doorway, his weapon smoking, tactical gear strapped over his evening clothes. "Step away from her, Julian."
"You're too late, Fed!" Julian wheezed, spitting blood onto the Persian rug. He backed toward the balcony railing overlooking the ballroom. In his left hand, he held a black detonator with a glowing red LED. "I wired the embassy wing. If I don't punch my biometric override every fifteen minutes, the entire third floor goes up in flames. Your sister, the child—they turn to ash!"
My heart stopped. "Chloe..."
*Rachel!* Madison’s voice suddenly crackled through my earpiece, loud, triumphant, and breathless. *Don't listen to him! The Marine detail found the charges in the HVAC ducts five minutes ago! Vance’s tech team defused them! Chloe is safe in my arms! The upload is at one hundred percent! The ledger is live!*
Julian heard the earpiece transmission. His face contorted in absolute, desperate horror. "No... no, that's impossible!"
"It's over, Julian," I said, stepping toward him, the broken neck of the glass bottle gripped firmly in my hand. "The Campbell bloodline doesn't belong to you. And you will never touch my daughter again."
Julian stared at me, then down at the chaos in the ballroom below. With a manic, animalistic scream, he vaulted over the balcony railing, crashing through an ornate wooden display stand thirty feet below, before vanishing into the stampeding crowd of panicked guests.
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"Rachel, we have to move!" Vance grabbed my arm. "Austrian tactical police are storming the lower gates—we don't know who is on the syndicate’s payroll! Extraction now!"
***
