Chapter 12: Facing Victor
The grand entryway downstairs was bathed in the warm light of the crystal chandelier, casting sparkling reflections across the polished hardwood floors. Victor Thorne stood near the base of the staircase, impeccably dressed in a charcoal-grey tailored suit, his silver-streaked hair neatly combed back. He looked less like a criminal syndicate boss and more like a Wall Street executive, which only made him infinitely more dangerous.
David descended the last three steps, stopping just a few feet away from Victor. Marcus flanked Victor's right side, casually tossing the black thumb drive in his palm.
"Victor. I thought you were still serving time in federal custody," David said, his voice remarkably steady despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Victor smiled, adjusting his cuffs with practiced elegance.
"People like me don't stay in cages for long, David. Good lawyers, deep pockets, and a few well-placed favors open a lot of doors," Victor replied smoothly, his sharp grey eyes scanning the luxurious surroundings of the foyer. "I must admit, you've built a very comfortable life for yourself out here in the sticks. Nice house, beautiful wife, healthy baby girl. It almost makes me feel guilty for coming to repossess it all."
"The debt was paid, Victor. I handed over the algorithm and the initial seed capital five years ago," David said through clenched teeth.
Victor chuckled, a cold, humorless sound that lacked any warmth.
"An algorithm that depreciated the moment the market crashed, my friend. Plus, you forgot to calculate interest—compounded daily over five years of searching for you," Victor said, his tone turning razor-sharp. "You owe us two million dollars, David. Cash, assets, or the deed to this property signed over to my shell corporations by midnight tonight."
David clenched his fists at his sides, his chest burning with rage.
"You'll get nothing. I'll burn this entire house to the ground before I let you take a single cent from my family," David threatened, taking a menacing step closer to Victor.
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Victor didn't flinch. He simply raised a hand, and Marcus instantly stepped forward, pressing a button on a small remote control he had pulled from his jacket.
Upstairs, muffled heavily through the reinforced walls of the second-floor hallway, the sharp, piercing shriek of a home security system alarm suddenly blared to life, accompanied by the chilling sound of the nursery deadbolt sliding open on its own.
