Chapter 23
Ethan strained against the leather restraints on the gurney, glaring at the woman who claimed to be his mother.
"You're a monster," Ethan spat out, his voice hoarse. "My father raised me with honor... you are nothing to me!"
Catherine chuckled softly, walking over and brushing a lock of hair from his forehead with cold fingers.
"Your father is a weak man who built his empire on lies, Ethan," she whispered into his ear.
"He never told you the truth about what happened twenty-five years ago, did he?"
Down on the pier, Clara fired two suppressed shots, taking down the two gangway guards silently before signaling William to move.
They sprinted up the steel stairs onto the main deck of the container ship, moving swiftly through the shadowy corridors toward the bridge.
Clara held her weapon ready, her eyes sweeping every corner as they reached the heavy steel doors of the upper deck.
She placed her hand on the door handle, turning to William with a tense, serious expression.
"Whatever happens inside that room, stay behind me, William," Clara whispered.
William nodded, his hand gripping a tactical sidearm tightly as Clara kicked the heavy door open.
Inside the bridge room, Catherine turned around slowly, a dark, sinister smile spreading across her lips as she looked at William.
"Hello, William," Catherine said softly, stepping back toward a control panel on the wall.
"You're just in time to choose who lives and who dies."
She pressed a red button on the console, and a heavy iron security shutter slammed down between William and Ethan’s gurney, trapping Ethan on the other side.
Through the bulletproof glass window of the shutter, Ethan yelled out: "Dad! Don't listen to her!"
Catherine pointed a remote detonator at the ship's engine room below.
"You have ten seconds, William," Catherine warned, her eyes burning with terrifying madness.
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"Surrender your control of Vance Financial to me now... or I detonate the explosives underneath this ship and sink us all into the cold harbor."
William stared through the glass at his son, then at the detonator in Catherine's hand, his breath catching in his throat as the digital timer began counting down from ten.
