Chapter 5 - The King Returns
Victor’s eyes bulged with absolute terror as he stumbled backward. A man who had been helpless in a wheelchair for nearly three thousand days was suddenly towering six-foot-four above him, terrifying and alive.
The sudden shock broke Victor’s focus for half a second.
I launched my entire body forward, slamming my weight into Victor before he could fire. We crashed onto the heavy marble floor together. The silenced pistol skidded across the rug, disappearing beneath the sofa.
"Shoot him!" Victor shrieked to his mercenaries. "SHOOT HIM!"
The lead mercenary raised his rifle, but my legs—shaky, burning, screaming with pain, but working—carried me into a low tackle. I grabbed the mercenary by his tactical vest and rammed him headfirst into the heavy iron frame of the winter garden entrance doors. He collapsed, unconscious.
The second mercenary fired a burst. Bullets shattered the glass panels above us, raining heavy crystal shards down like falling stars.
Suddenly, gunfire erupted from the hallway balcony above!
Marcus had circled back! He took down the remaining two mercenaries with precise, silenced shots from his sidearm. They crumpled to the floor.
Victor, bleeding from his forehead, scrambled across the glass-covered floor on his hands and knees, clawing frantically toward his fallen pistol.
I walked toward him.
My steps were uneven. My knees buckled slightly with every stride as eight years of dormant muscle memory fought to reclaim control. But I walked. Step by heavy step, the marble floor echoing under my boots.
I stepped down hard on Victor’s wrist just as his fingers touched the gun.
A sickening crack sounded through the room. Victor screamed in agony, clutching his broken wrist, cowering up at me from the floor.
"Please, Caleb!" Victor sobbed, his refined composure completely shattered. "It was business! I can give you half the company! Millions! Millions of dollars!"
I looked down at him with utter disgust. I bent over, picked up Audrey’s mahogany music box from the desk, and looked at Marcus, who was standing on the landing above, staring at me standing on my own two feet in absolute awe.
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"Call the Federal Bureau of Investigation," I ordered Marcus, my voice echoing through the ruined mansion. "Tell them the Harbor King is coming to Pier 9. And tell them to bring arrest warrants for the entire board of Vance Pharmaceuticals."
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