Chapter 47 - The Judgment of the Ledger
"Let him speak, Julian," I said, stepping past my mother and sister until I stood directly over the man who had facilitated the destruction of my life.
Vance looked up, his eyes wild with the manic desperation of a cornered beast. "The syndicate will adapt! Governments fall, currencies collapse, but the capital... the capital always survives! You released the files, but the physical reserves—the physical patents for the synthetic enzymes—are stored in a cold vault in Singapore. You'll never touch them. You'll never give your dead brat's legacy to the world!"
I knelt down until my eyes were level with his. I didn't yell. I didn't shake. I spoke with the terrifying calm of someone who had already survived the worst hell the earth had to offer.
"Do you know what was in the third key, Arthur?" I whispered.
Vance blinked, a flicker of cold doubt crossing his bruised face.
"It wasn't just a decryption key," I continued, tapping the screen of my tablet. "It was an automated patent-release directive routed through the World Health Organization and thirty open-source pharmaceutical laboratories across four continents. Forty minutes ago, the synthetic enzyme formulas were entered into the public domain. Free of charge. Unpatentable forever."
Vance’s mouth fell open. His entire body sagged as if the spine had been pulled from his back. "You... you gave away three hundred billion dollars of intellectual property."
"I didn't give away anything," I said coldly. "I gave Chloe her victory."
Helena rose from her high-backed chair, the silver revolver resting firmly in her right hand. She looked down at Vance with total, absolute contempt.
"You took twelve years of my daughters' lives," Helena said. "You starved my granddaughter of breath. The Scottish authorities are waiting at the base of the causeway with Interpol warrants. You will spend the rest of your miserable life in a maximum-security cell, watching Chloe’s foundation distribute the very cure you hoarded to millions of children."
Two of Julian’s operators hauled Vance to his feet, dragging him toward the heavy oak doors. His incoherent curses were swallowed whole by the howling Highland wind.
When the heavy doors shut behind them, only the sound of the peat fire remained.
May you like
Genevieve stood beside Helena, wiping her tears, holding our mother’s hand tightly as if letting go would cause her to dissolve back into the Atlantic mist.
Helena turned to me, her eyes pleading for something she knew she had no right to ask for. "Clara."
