Chapter 12 - The Blackout
Julian lowered the satellite phone without cutting the connection, his dark eyes snapping toward his aunt. The flashing police lights cast erratic crimson shadows across Eleanor’s severe expression, revealing a layer of genuine panic that he had never witnessed in her before.
“What kind of breach, Aunt Eleanor?” Julian asked, his voice deadpan and razor-sharp, the physical pain in his legs completely forgotten as his tactical mind clicked into high gear.
“The primary mainframe at the downtown data center just went dark,” Eleanor said, her breathing shallow as she clutched the handle of her cane. “Every encrypted backup of the global logistics network—the shipping routes, the manufacturing patents, the supply chain ledgers—has been locked behind a secondary encryption key. A dead-man’s switch.”
Marcus Thorne hurried out behind her, his leather briefcase tucked tightly under his arm, his smartphone glowing furiously in his palm. “Mr. Vance, my tech team just confirmed it. The ransomware isn't coming from outside. It’s executing from an internal server room located inside your private penthouse suite.”
Julian stared at them both, the pieces of the horrifying puzzle finally clicking into place. While he had been sitting downstairs in the wheelchair, enduring Victoria’s cruel champagne splash and Arthur’s pathetic grandstanding, someone had used his own biometric credentials to lock down the core of his entire enterprise.
“Who has root access to my private residence?” Julian asked quietly.
“Only one person,” Sarah whispered, her eyes widening in horror as she looked at Julian. “Besides you... only Victoria’s brother, Julian’s former chief of staff, Marcus Vance... no—Christian Vance.”
Christian. The golden-boy brother-in-law who had supposedly been stranded in London for the past six months dealing with European expansion. The man Julian had trusted with his life, his medical directives, and his corporate keys while his legs were paralyzed.
“He’s not in London,” Julian stated flatly, turning sharply toward the waiting town car at the curb. “He’s here in the city. And he’s sitting in my home right now, wiping the servers clean.”
Marcus Thorne fumbled with his phone, tapping frantically on the screen. “Sir, if Christian executes the final wipe sequence, every financial record proving Victoria and Arthur’s embezzlement will be instantly erased, leaving us with no legal proof to hold them in federal custody.”
Julian didn't hesitate. He pulled open the rear door of the black town car, his newly healed legs moving with powerful, unbroken coordination as he slid into the plush leather seat. He looked up at Sarah and Aunt Eleanor standing on the wet pavement.
“Get into the car,” Julian ordered coldly. “We’re going home.”
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Before the driver could even shift into drive, the dashboard console screen suddenly flickered to life, displaying a live video feed from Julian’s penthouse living room—and the sight on the screen made Julian’s blood run completely ice-cold.
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