Chapter 8 - Sirens in the Dark
On the high-resolution monitor above the workbench, three unmarked black SUVs with flashing red and blue strobes embedded in their grilles pulled swiftly up the estate’s crushed-limestone driveway, cutting off the escape routes. Federal marshals in heavy tactical gear swarmed out of the vehicles, their weapons drawn as they moved with synchronized precision toward the main entrance of the manor.
"They moved faster than twenty minutes," Julian murmured, watching the screen with a grim fascination. "Evelyn must have triggered the corporate compliance panic button herself to control the narrative."
"She’s sacrificing the company to save her personal estate," Liam realized instantly, a dark understanding washing over him. "If the federal investigation treats the offshore accounts as a rogue executive embezzlement scheme rather than a corporate conspiracy, she escapes personal liability under the corporate shield laws."
"And who do they pin the embezzlement on?" Julian asked, turning to look directly into his son's eyes. "Who was the chief financial officer of the research division for the last three years?"
Liam stared at his father, the pieces of the puzzle snapping together with terrifying clarity. "Me. They transferred the twenty million dollars through my research division’s sub-account yesterday afternoon while I was at the rehearsal dinner."
Before Julian could answer, the heavy wooden door of the carriage house rattled violently as someone threw their weight against it from the outside. Liam instinctively reached into the desk drawer, his fingers closing around the cold steel barrel of an old hunting revolver his grandfather had left him years ago—the only unregistered firearm on the property.
The door burst open with a loud splintering of wood.
Clara stood in the doorway, her white wedding dress completely ruined now, stained with deep red mud up to her knees, her hair wild and tangled around her pale face. She wasn't holding a designer handbag anymore; she gripped a heavy, metallic black briefcase against her chest with both arms like a shield.
"They're coming for you, Liam," Clara gasped, her chest heaving as she stumbled into the laboratory, her eyes wide with unadulterated terror. "Your mother didn't just call the SEC. She told them you were fleeing the country with the trial data."
Liam lowered the desk drawer slowly, his hand resting on the revolver. He stood up from the chair, towering over her in the dim green light of the server racks. "You took the hard drives from the safe. You were working with Marcus all along to clear out the lab before the marshals arrived."
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Clara shook her head frantically, stepping backward until her spine hit the cold edge of the workbench. "I didn't take them for Marcus. I took them because Marcus was going to burn this building down with us inside it."
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