Chapter 8 - The Hidden Drive “Wait! Don't let him leave!”
The desperate voice belonged to Leo, Victoria’s personal assistant and the junior IT director for Vance Global Holdings. He stumbled out of the service corridor, his tuxedo tie hanging loose around his collar, sweat pouring down his pale face. He clutched a small black flash drive in his trembling right hand as if it were a live grenade.
The federal marshals halted Arthur Vance at the doors, while the detective spun around, his hand instinctively resting on his holstered firearm. Victoria gasped from her position on the floor, her eyes widening in sheer horror as she recognized the drive in Leo’s hand.
“Leo? What are you doing?” Victoria screeched, scrambling to her feet with the help of a nearby marble pillar, her glittering silver gown dragging through the puddle of spilled champagne. “Shut your mouth! You don't know what you're saying!”
“I know everything, Mrs. Vance!” Leo cried out, his voice cracking with panic. He ignored her threats and rushed toward Julian, dropping the flash drive onto the wooden armrest of the empty wheelchair. “He made me do it. Arthur and Victoria... they downloaded the backdoor trojan into the medical monitoring system. They weren't just trying to bankrupt you, Mr. Vance—they were deliberately tweaking the dosage of your neural suppressants to keep you permanently paralyzed!”
A collective, audible gasp swept through the remaining guests. Even the hardened federal marshals looked visibly shocked.
Julian looked down at the small black piece of plastic resting on the wheelchair armrest. He didn't look surprised. He picked it up slowly between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze shifting from the terrified IT worker to his disgraced uncle, and finally landing on his trembling, cornered wife.
“You didn't just want my money, Victoria,” Julian said softly, his voice carrying a terrifying, measured weight that chilled the room to its core. “You wanted me trapped inside my own body while you dismantled everything I built.”
Victoria backed away until her spine hit the marble pillar, her breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps. “It’s a lie! He’s lying to save his own skin! Julian, you’re hallucinating—the medication, it messed with your brain!”
“The only thing messed with was my neurology, and thanks to Sarah and the Metropolitan Neurological Institute, every single drop of that poison is out of my system,” Julian replied, taking two slow, deliberate steps forward. His legs were steady now, the blood pumping fiercely through his veins, fueling a righteous fury that could no longer be contained.
Marcus Thorne plugged a portable diagnostic tablet into the flash drive Leo had provided, tapping the screen twice. A holographic projection flickered to life in the center of the ballroom, displaying a detailed, timestamped digital ledger of every command sent to Julian’s smart-home medical bed.
The screen also displayed something else—a private, encrypted messaging chat between Victoria and Arthur, detailing plans to institutionalize Julian permanently by the end of the month.
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As the chat log scrolled across the glowing display, the heavy double doors at the far end of the ballroom opened once again, revealing a figure no one expected to see.
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