Chapter 10 - Checkmate
Elena stopped three feet from Julian’s wheelchair, her expression a masterclass in serene cruelty. She looked down at him not with anger, but with the detached amusement of a scientist observing a lab rat trapped in a maze.
“You always were far too predictable, Julian,” Elena said smoothly, adjusting the diamond ring on her finger. “Building an underground vault to keep your little secrets safe from me? Did you really think I wouldn't keep a master backup key to every lock in this building?”
Julian’s hands gripped the armrests so hard the wood groaned under his pressure. His dark eyes burned with a mixture of fury and despair. “You didn't just steal the money, Elena. You set me up for a murder I didn't commit. You used my name to launder cartel blood money for five years.”
“Business requires sacrifices, Julian,” Elena replied coldly, taking another step closer. “And your tragic accident made you uniquely qualified to take the blame. A paralyzed man confined to a wheelchair makes a sympathetic defendant for a jury—until the evidence overwhelms him and he spends the rest of his natural life behind bars, safely out of our way.”
Maeve watched from the shadows behind the server rack, her breathing shallow and quiet. Her hand slipped down slowly along the fuse box, her fingers brushing the thick red circuit breaker. She knew she only had one shot. If she threw the switch now, she might plunge the entire bunker into complete darkness, buying them a few seconds to react. But if Viktor caught her moving, it would all be over.
“And what about the maid?” Viktor asked suddenly, turning his cold, shaved head directly toward the dark corner where Maeve was hiding. “Are we just going to leave her down here to rot with the software?”
Elena didn't even turn her head. She kept her eyes locked on Julian. “Maeve is a smart girl. She earns thirty-five an hour to change sheets, not to uncover international money laundering rings. Isn’t that right, Maeve?”
Maeve’s heart skipped a beat. She slowly stepped out from the shadows of the server rack, keeping her hands visible at her sides, her face a mask of calculated calm.
“Thirty-five an hour isn't enough hazard pay for this,” Maeve said steadily, her voice echoing clearly in the vault. “Especially since the agency doesn't cover kidnapping and conspiracy.”
Elena finally turned, her striking blue eyes narrowing as she surveyed the young woman in the beige maid uniform. A cold, sardonic smile touched Elena’s lips. “You have remarkable nerve, Maeve. Most people would be weeping on the floor by now.”
“Crying doesn't pay my rent,” Maeve replied evenly, taking one slow step forward.
“No, it doesn't,” Elena agreed softly. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a heavy, matte-black pistol fitted with a long cylindrical silencer. The metal gleamed dully under the amber light. “Unfortunately, curiosity doesn't pay out retirement pensions either.”
Julian shouted out, throwing his wheelchair forward to block Elena’s line of sight. “Leave her out of this, Elena! She doesn't know anything!”
Viktor moved with lightning speed, stepping forward and kicking the front wheel of Julian’s chair hard, spinning it out of the way and sending Julian crashing against the side of the mahogany desk. Julian groaned, his shoulder slamming into the wood.
Elena raised the silenced pistol, leveling the black barrel straight at Maeve’s chest.
May you like
Maeve didn't hesitate anymore. With a wild surge of adrenaline, she slammed her fist down onto the thick red circuit breaker.
---
