Chapter 9
The silence in the room was absolute, heavy with the terrifying reality of Vincent's words. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated the sweat on Silas Thorne’s brow and the blood pooling beneath Adrian on the marble floor.
"Vincent, you can't just kill us all," Helena whimpered, her aristocratic facade entirely shattered. "The Commission will demand answers! You can't execute senior family members without a tribunal!"
"The Commission... answers to me," Vincent replied, his voice flat and completely devoid of emotion. "And there is no tribunal for treason. There is only the consequence."
He turned to his lead capo, a hardened man standing near the main doors.
"Collect their phones," Vincent ordered. "Wipe the servers in Silas's office. Burn every ledger, every hard drive, and every piece of paper in his firm. Leave absolutely nothing for the feds to find."
"Consider it done, Boss," the capo nodded, gesturing for his men to begin confiscating the devices from the three traitors.
"As for you, Silas," Vincent said, walking slowly back to the terrified accountant. "You wanted an insurance policy. Let us see how much coverage you actually have."
"Please, Vincent, I have money! Millions in untraceable offshore accounts!" Silas begged, his American accent cracking into a hysterical sob. "I will give it all to you! Just let me walk out of here! I will disappear!"
"You will disappear," Vincent agreed softly, leaning down so his handsome, angular face was just inches from the trembling man. "But not with your money. And not with your life."
He looked at his bodyguards. "Take him to the soundproof holding cells in the basement. Find out exactly who he spoke to at the federal agency. Extract every single name. When he is finished talking... ensure he never speaks again."
"No! No, please!" Silas shrieked as two massive men grabbed him by the arms, hauling him violently out of his chair. He kicked and thrashed, but he was completely powerless against their strength. They dragged him toward the service elevator, his desperate screams echoing through the bright, beautifully decorated hall until the doors closed behind him.
Vincent turned his cold, sharp eyes toward his aunt and his cousin.
Adrian was still groaning on the floor, barely conscious, clutching his shattered chest. Helena was trembling against the wall, her expensive jewelry mocking her absolute ruin.
"You plotted against my blood," Vincent stated, the controlled pauses in his speech highlighting his apocalyptic rage. "You used my son as a pawn to secure your own greed."
"We are your family, Vincent!" Helena cried, falling to her knees on the marble floor.
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"You are a disease," Vincent corrected her coldly. "And I am the cure."
He looked at his men. "Strip them of their titles, their properties, and their bank accounts. Take them to the warehouse at the docks. Keep them alive. I want them to watch as I burn everything they have ever built to the ground."
