Chapter 11 - The Broken Alliance
The impact sent Nathanael and Eleanor crashing hard against the heavy mahogany bookshelf, sending framed diplomas and law books cascading onto the hardwood floor in a deafening clatter. The knife flew from Eleanor’s hand, skittering across the room and sliding beneath the sofa.
Lily scrambled out of the armchair, her small legs carrying her as fast as she could toward the doorway. Nathanael caught sight of her running and shouted over the struggle, "Get out of the room, Lily! Run down the hall!"
Eleanor snarled, wrapping her fingers into the fabric of Nathanael's ruined white shirt and trying to drive her knee into his stomach. Despite her elegant appearance, she possessed a desperate, wiry strength fueled by pure adrenaline and malice.
"You ruined everything!" Eleanor screamed, clawing at his face. "You were supposed to be my ticket out!"
Nathanael pinned her wrists against the floor, his breathing ragged as he fought to keep her immobilized. "It's over, Eleanor. The federal agents are already in the house. There's nowhere left to run."
Suddenly, the heavy front door of the house burst open downstairs, followed by the heavy bootsteps of tactical officers sweeping the corridors.
"Federal agents! Clear!" a voice shouted from the foyer, echoing up the staircase.
Eleanor’s struggle faltered for a split second at the sound of the approaching footsteps. In that momentary lapse, the study door swung completely wide open, and Agent Vance stepped into the room with his weapon drawn, flanked by two armed officers.
"Freeze! Stay right where you are!" Agent Vance commanded, lowering his rifle slightly as he assessed the chaotic scene on the floor.
Nathanael slowly released his grip, rolling off Eleanor and sitting back against the base of the bookshelf, chest heaving for air. Eleanor lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling with vacant, unblinking eyes, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths as the handcuffs were snapped securely around her wrists.
"You're late," Nathanael muttered, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek where Eleanor's ring had scratched him.
"The vault override took longer than expected," Agent Vance replied, walking over to extend a hand and pull Nathanael to his feet. He glanced down at Eleanor as officers hoisted her to her feet. "Eleanor Cross, you are officially under arrest for attempted kidnapping, extortion, and federal fraud."
Eleanor didn't say a word as they hauled her toward the hallway. She didn't look back at Nathanael, nor did she offer any parting threats. Her silence was far more chilling than her previous rage.
As the officers escorted Eleanor out of the study, a frantic commotion erupted from the front entryway downstairs.
"Let me through! I need to see my client!" a sharp, unfamiliar voice yelled over the officers' commands.
Agent Vance frowned, tapping his headset. "What's going on down there? Who bypassed the perimeter tape?"
Before anyone could answer, a tall, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal business suit strode briskly up the stairs and into the study, holding a thick leather briefcase under his arm. It was Harrison Cole, Cross Industries' longtime general counsel—a man who had been out of the country on a corporate retreat for the past two weeks.
"Nathanael, thank God you're safe," Harrison said, breathless and wide-eyed. "I just landed at the private airstrip and saw the news reports. But that's not why I'm here. You need to look at this document immediately."
Nathanael took the manila folder Harrison pulled from his briefcase, his hands trembling as he flipped open the cover.
Inside was a signed stock transfer agreement, dated yesterday, shifting ninety percent of Cross Industries' voting shares into an offshore holding company controlled entirely by a dead man.
May you like
Marcus Vance.
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