Chapter 8 - The Final Heist
Rain poured over the industrial park in Secaucus, New Jersey, as my security convoy pulled up outside the dark, monolithic structure housing Cole Dynamics' primary server farm.
Inside the building, emergency lights cast long, orange shadows down the glass corridors. Victor Sloane stood inside the main server vault, directing three technicians who were rapidly unmounting server racks and packing them into reinforced transport cases.
"Move faster!" Victor barked, leaning heavily on his brass cane. "The federal marshals will have a warrant by midnight! We take the master drives and cross the border into Canada before dawn!"
"I don't think you'll make that flight, Victor," I said, stepping into the vault doorway.
Victor spun around, his eyes wild and bloodshot. "Adrian. You just don't know when to stay home, do you?"
Two of Victor's armed security guards stepped forward, raising their weapons, but my security detail immediately covered them with laser-sighted sidearms.
"Drop your weapons!" Marcus shouted, presenting an emergency federal seizure warrant issued by the Department of Justice. "This facility is under federal seal! Victor Sloane, stand away from those servers!"
Victor let out a harsh, rasping laugh. "You think a warrant stops me, Adrian? I spent twenty years building Sloane Capital! I made you! You were nothing until I gave you capital and directed your talent!"
"You didn't make me, Victor," I said, walking slowly into the center of the vault, completely unbothered by the armed men between us. "You exploited me. You used my passion to build a shield for your corruption. And when I stopped being useful, you tried to steal my children."
"They aren't your children!" Victor shouted, his face contorting with rage. "Noah is my blood! My heir! You're just a surrogate who paid for his school tuition!"
"Noah hates you," I said coldly, meeting his crazed stare. "He knows who you are. He gave me the key to your basement safe. He activated the distress call that put you in cuffs. He chose me."
Victor’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. The truth hit him harder than any legal verdict—the realization that despite all his money, power, and schemes, the boy he viewed as his rightful legacy despised him.
Sirens wailed in the distance, echoing through the rainy night as federal agents and local police surrounded the building.
May you like
Victor looked at the servers, then at the police lights flashing through the high glass windows. Realizing he had run out of moves, his cane slipped from his fingers, clattering against the raised steel floor of the server room.
"It's over, Victor," I said gently. "It's finally over."
