You’ll only embarrass me wearing that dress. / Chapter 69 / 70

Chapter 69 - The Sovereign’s Gambit

Ethan did not pull the trigger. Death was too clean, too swift an escape for a man who had orchestrated decades of misery from behind concrete walls.

Instead, Ethan kicked the titanium briefcase out of Vivienne’s trembling grasp, pinning it under his combat boot. He glanced at his aunt with utter disgust. "Step away from the aircraft, Vivienne. If you run, the international warrants already being issued through Interpol will ensure you spend the rest of your life in an isolation cell in The Hague."

Vivienne raised her hands slowly, stepping back into the snow, her face drained of all color.

Two German tactical federal officers, guided by the coordinated intel Clara had transmitted before triggering the EMP, burst through the rooftop access doors, weapons drawn, shouting commands in German. Arthur Vance was dragged to his feet, handcuffs ratcheting tightly around his frail, wrinkled wrists.

As the federal officers escorted the broken patriarch toward the interior stairs, Arthur turned his head one last time, glaring at Clara with pure, undiluted malice.

"You think this ends here, Harrell?" Arthur spat, blood trickling from his lip. "The world is full of men who built what I built. You will never be safe. You will spend your entire miserable life looking over your shoulder!"

Clara stepped up to him, wiping a snowflake from her eyelashes, her posture commanding and majestic even in the ruined white gown.

"You told me once that I would only embarrass Ethan wearing this dress," Clara said, her voice clear and cutting through the mountain wind. "Look at me, Arthur Vance. This dress survived your fire, your snipers, and your empire. And it will be the last thing you remember as you rot in the dark."

Arthur was dragged into the shadows, his curses swallowed by the howling wind.

Ethan walked over to Clara, wrapping his heavy tactical jacket around her trembling shoulders, pulling her against his chest. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind the bone-deep exhaustion of a war that had spanned generations.

"It’s over," Clara whispered against his neck, closing her eyes as she inhaled his familiar scent of rain and cedar. "We can go home, Ethan. We can bring Leo home."

"Yes," Ethan murmured, kissing her forehead gently, his hands cradling her face. "We go home. The empire Helena stole, the empire Arthur hid—we will dismantle it piece by piece until nothing remains but what belongs to us."

The helicopter on the pad was shut down, its rotors slowly coming to a halt. The storm began to break above the Bavarian Alps, revealing a pale, silver dawn stretching across the horizon. For the first time in months, the air felt clear, free of poisoned whispers and hidden cameras.

They boarded the federal transport that would take them across the Austrian border to Salzburg, where their son was waiting. In the backseat of the vehicle, Clara held Ethan’s hand, their fingers intertwined, their wedding rings catching the morning light.