Chapter 6
The red error messages on the digital wall panel flickered, changing from crimson to a steady, freezing blue.
Julian stared at the screen as his personal banking app displayed a balance of zero.
"This is impossible," Julian choked out, his hands trembling as he stared at his smartphone screen.
"The offshore accounts are fully encrypted.
They are backed by federal trusts."
"They were backed by naval supply contracts that never legally existed," Martha said, stepping closer to the pedestal.
"When Clara designed the submersible’s life-support architecture, she built a dormant backdoor into every single military contractor ledger linked to your family's shell companies."
Victoria looked between Julian and the old woman.
The weight of her father’s legacy felt like a physical crushing force on her chest.
"You planned this," Victoria said, her voice cracking.
"You didn't just wander into my boutique by chance.
You orchestrated this entire encounter."
Martha turned her glowing blue eyes toward Victoria.
"I waited twenty-six years for the daughter of Admiral Sterling to wear the shroud of her family's sins," Martha admitted without remorse.
"You advertised this bespoke gown online, boasting that it was woven with military-grade fiber optics.
You practically sent me an invitation."
Julian let out a low, feral growl.
He abandoned his phone, turning his rage directly toward the elderly woman.
He lunged forward, his hands clawing at Martha’s shoulders with vicious intent.
"I’ll rip that hat off your head, you old witch!" Julian screamed, abandoning all pretense of gentlemanly restraint.
Victoria screamed, moving to intervene, but she didn't need to.
Before Julian’s fingers could make contact, Martha raised her right hand.
A sharp, electric snap echoed through the showroom.
A localized discharge of kinetic energy, generated by the fiber optics in the nearby gown, surged through the air.
It struck Julian squarely in the chest.
He flew backward, slamming hard against the glass display cases, shattering crystal shelves into a cascade of sparkling shards.
Julian groaned, collapsing onto the floor amidst broken glass and designer accessories.
Martha lowered her hand, breathing slowly.
The blue light in her eyes flickered but remained bright.
May you like
"The deep does not forgive trespassers, Julian," Martha whispered into the ringing silence.
"And neither do I."
