Chapter 14 - The Viral Reckoning
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, chaos erupted.
"Security!" Ximena shrieked, her voice shrill and panicked. "Get this deranged woman out of here! Julian, you are violating court restraining orders—"
"I am violating nothing," Julian’s voice cut through the room like a whip, echoing off the high ceilings. He pulled a folded federal subpoena from his breast pocket and held it high above his head for the cameras to capture. "United States District Court, Northern District of Illinois. Dr. Adrian Vance, you and the board of Sterling Biomedical are formally served in connection with federal racketeering, grand theft of regulated human tissue, and wire fraud."
Flashbulbs detonated in a blinding frenzy.
Guests began backing away from Vance as if he had suddenly contracted the plague. High-ranking politicians who had been laughing with him seconds earlier discreetly slipped toward the emergency exits, shielding their faces from the cameras.
Vance stepped down from the dais, his regal composure snapping. He leaned toward me, his face turning an ugly, congested purple, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.
"You arrogant little nobody," Vance hissed under his breath, so low only Julian and I could hear. "Do you think a handful of photocopies can touch me? I built this city’s medical infrastructure! I decide who lives and who dies in this state! You think you’re avenging that weak, defective brat of yours? She wasn't fit to live!"
*SMACK.*
The sound of my open hand striking Vance’s face was like a gunshot in the cavernous hall.
The impact sent the seventy-year-old billionaire stumbling sideways into a tower of champagne glasses, sending them crashing down in a cascading waterfall of crystal and sparkling wine.
The gasps from the crowd were deafening.
"Don't you dare call my daughter defective," I whispered, stepping right over the broken glass until I stood over him, my eyes burning with absolute, uncompromising wrath. "She had more humanity in her pinky finger than your entire bloodline has ever possessed."
Security guards rushed forward, but Julian stepped directly between them, flashing his federal bar card alongside two plainclothes US Marshals who had entered quietly through the back doors.
"Touch her, and you are accessory to federal obstruction," Julian warned the guards calmly.
The guards froze. Nobody moved.
I looked down at Adrian Vance, who was clutching his reddened cheek on the champagne-soaked floor, his hair disheveled, the untouchable titan reduced to a humiliated, dripping mess on national live-stream feeds.
"The Chloe Bennett Foundation just purchased the controlling debt on your primary laboratory facility at noon today," I informed him, leaning down slightly so his trembling eyes met mine. "By Monday morning, Dr. Vance, your labs will belong to the children you stole from. Have a wonderful evening."
I turned on my heel and walked out of the Drake Hotel, my head held high, the flashbulbs lighting my path like the dawn after an eclipse.
Outside, the cool night air of Michigan Avenue rushed over me. The adrenaline was pumping so hard through my veins that my fingers were buzzing.
Julian caught up to me, catching my hand in his. His grip was warm, strong, and unwavering.
May you like
"Clara," he breathed, a mixture of awe and fierce pride in his eyes. "That was... magnificent. But Vance is going to retaliate. He’s going to activate every dirty asset he owns."
"I know," I said, looking up at the towering skyscrapers of Chicago. "And I want him to. Because when a wounded beast thrashes, it leaves a trail of blood straight back to its den."
