Chapter 9 - The Final Reckoning In Hangar Four
Richard Vance lay flat on his back in the muddy puddle, staring up at the cold steel of Vincent’s firearm.
Rain poured relentlessly over his face, washing away his aristocratic arrogance and leaving only raw, pathetic cowardice.
"Please, Vincent... I raised you after your father died!" Vance wept, his hands clawing at the wet pavement.
"I managed your money! I protected your family from federal indictments for twenty years!"
"You didn't protect my family, Richard," Vincent said, his voice completely steady amid the howling wind.
"You parasitized my family... and you murdered an innocent girl to cover up your own embezzlement."
Behind them, the emergency backup generators of Hangar Four began to hum, flicking low orange safety lights back on.
The dim amber light illuminated the tarmac, revealing five mercenaries unconscious or dead on the wet asphalt.
Sarah walked down the stairs of the Gulfstream, holding baby Liam close to her chest under a heavy black umbrella.
Victoria followed behind her trembling, her sapphire blue dress ruined, looking like a ghost in the rain.
Vance’s eyes darted toward Victoria, a desperate, hysterical plea bursting from his mouth.
"Victoria! Tell him!" Vance screamed. "Tell him we did this together! Tell him you wanted the money as much as I did!"
Victoria stopped at the edge of the hangar light, looking down at her former lover with absolute disgust and horror.
"I wanted a child, Richard," Victoria said, her voice cracking over the storm. "You used my pain to stage a corporate coup."
"She’s lying!" Vance shrieked, looking back up at the unyielding barrel of Vincent’s gun. "Vincent, listen to me!"
Vincent didn't utter another word; his dark eyes were completely cold, devoid of any mercy or hesitation.
Slowly, Vincent pulled the trigger back, his finger applying steady, professional pressure to the mechanism.
"Vincent, wait!" Sarah’s voice echoed sharply across the wet tarmac, cutting through the heavy atmosphere.
Vincent paused, his eye locked onto Vance, but his head turned slightly toward the blonde woman in the navy dress.
"He deserves to die, Sarah," Vincent said grimly. "He gave the order that destroyed your family."
"If you shoot him right now, Vincent, you prove that he was right about you," Sarah said, stepping closer to him.
"You prove that you're just a mafia thug who solves every problem with a bullet in the dark."
"He stole my son, Sarah!" Vincent roared, his voice shaking with the immense pressure of his built-up rage.
"He didn't steal your son, Vincent," Sarah corrected softly, pointing her eyes toward baby Liam sleeping in her arms.
"This boy isn't yours... and he isn't Richard's," Sarah revealed, her words dropping like heavy lead weights.
Vincent froze, his brow furrowing in deep, profound confusion as he looked between Sarah and the weeping lawyer on the ground.
"What are you talking about?" Vincent demanded, his weapon lowering an inch as the ground beneath him shifted once more.
Sarah reached into her pocket, pulling out a sealed envelope stamped with the crest of the New Jersey State Department of Health.
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"The surrogate in Vermont didn't give birth to Richard's child," Sarah stated clearly over the sound of the rain.
"The baby sitting in my arms... is my sister's biological grandson."
