Chapter 9 - Justice in the Rain
The gunshot echoed through the high-ceilinged penthouse like a thunderclap.
Pain didn't hit me. Instead, a flash of white light blinded the room as the heavy glass behind Vance shattered inward.
A sniper bullet fired from a federal police helicopter hovering outside tore through the wrist of Vance's gun hand. His revolver clattered to the marble floor, spinning away into the darkness.
Vance screamed in agony, clutching his shattered hand as blood dripped onto his expensive suit.
I didn't hesitate. I closed the distance between us in two rapid strides, driving my shoulder into Vance’s chest with all the built-up rage of three years of unbearable grief. We crashed onto the cold marble floor. I pinned his shoulders down, my hand gripping his collar, pressing my firearm against the underside of his chin.
"Give me one reason," I growled, my voice shaking with raw, primal fury. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't pull this trigger right now for what you did to Tessa."
Vance panted heavily, his face pale with pain and absolute terror. The arrogance was gone. The billionaire titan was nothing more than a broken, cowardly old man begging for his life.
"Please..." Vance whimpered, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "Please... I have money... millions... I can give you whatever you want..."
"I already have everything I want," I whispered savagely. "I have my wife back."
Behind us, heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs. Agent Reyes and six armed federal tactical officers burst into the penthouse, their laser sights painting Vance’s chest in crimson dots.
"Federal agents! Don't move!" Reyes shouted.
Out on the helipad, Marcus slammed Julian Cross against the landing gear of the helicopter, snapping handcuffs tightly around the hitman's wrists. Julian slumped to his knees, defeated.
Agent Reyes stepped up beside me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Stand down, Ethan. We've got him."
Slowly, I eased my finger off the trigger and stood up.
Two tactical officers hauled Richard Vance to his feet, forcing his arms behind his back and snapping heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.
As they dragged him past me toward the elevator, Agent Reyes leaned down and picked up Vance’s silver briefcase, opening it to reveal millions of dollars in unregistered bearer bonds and foreign currency.
"Richard Vance," Reyes said, her voice dripping with cold satisfaction. "You are under arrest for money laundering, human trafficking, attempted murder, and corporate espionage. You have the right to remain silent."
I turned away, walking out onto the rainy rooftop. Marcus offered me a tired, bloody smile, wiping rain from his eyes as the helicopter engine powered down.
And then, stepping through the shattered glass doors of the penthouse, came Tessa.
She stood in the rain, her fleece sweater soaked, her hair clinging to her face. She looked at me across the wet concrete of the roof, her eyes shining with tears of absolute freedom.
May you like
I ran to her. She threw her arms around my neck, and I lifted her off her feet, spinning her around under the dark, rain-swept sky of Charlotte.
The nightmare was over. The ghosts were finally gone.
