Chapter 13: The Awakening
CLICK.
The sound was sharp, metallic, and completely unexpected. It didn't come from Isabella's gun. It came from the shadows near the doorway.
"Drop it, Isabella. Now."
Emma gasped. Standing in the doorway, bleeding from a cut on his forehead and breathing heavily, was Marcus. The young security guard held his service weapon tightly, trained directly on Isabella’s head.
"Marcus!" Isabella barked, trying to regain her authority. "Shoot her! She broke into the estate! She attacked me!"
"Save it," Marcus growled, stepping into the room. "I saw what you did in the basement. I heard everything on her flash drive. I’ve already triggered the silent alarm to the state troopers. They're breaching the main gates right now."
Through the heavy glass windows of the master suite, the distant wail of police sirens began to cut through the quiet night air, growing louder by the second. Flashing red and blue lights painted the tree line in the distance.
Isabella’s eyes darted frantically from Marcus to Emma, to the window, and finally to William. Her grand plan—her empire, her escape—was crumbling into dust.
"You think you've won?" Isabella spat, her voice trembling with rage. "I have offshore accounts you will never find! I will hire an army of lawyers that will bury you both so deep you won't see daylight for the rest of your pathetic lives!"
"You won't need lawyers," a raw, raspy voice croaked.
Everyone froze.
William Sterling was shifting in his chair. The shock of the violent fight, combined with the adrenaline pumping through his system, was temporarily overriding the sedatives. He forced his head up, his eyes burning with a terrifying, absolute clarity. He looked at the woman he had married, seeing the monster beneath the satin and lace for the very first time.
"You... you touched my son," William wheezed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests of his chair. "I will spend every... every cent I have... to make sure you die in a concrete box."
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Isabella stared at him, the color completely draining from her flawless face. The jig was up. She was cornered.
With a scream of pure frustration, she whipped her gun toward Marcus and fired.
