Chapter 9 - The Fall of the Nephew
FBI tactical vehicles smashed through the security barrier at the entrance of the subterranean garage.
Dozens of armed federal agents flooded the concrete space, their rifles pointed directly at Victor and his bodyguards.
"FBI! Nobody move! Hands above your heads!" an agent screamed through a high-powered bullhorn.
Victor's bodyguards immediately dropped their weapons and dropped to their knees, raising their hands in complete surrender.
Victor stood petrified, his face turning ghostly white as the legal papers fell from his trembling fingers onto the oil-stained floor.
"Uncle... please!" Victor whimpered, turning to Harold with desperate, frantic eyes. "We're family! You can't do this to me!"
"You gave up your right to call me family the moment you put national security at risk for money," Harold stated coldly.
Federal agents slammed Victor onto the hood of a sleek vehicle, clicking steel handcuffs tightly around his wrists.
As Victor was dragged away toward a waiting transport van, he glared at Ethan with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"This isn't over, janitor!" Victor screamed as he was shoved into the back of the police vehicle. "You hear me?! It's not over!"
The heavy garage fell quiet once more, leaving only the hum of the ventilation fans blowing through the vast concrete space.
Harold turned to Ethan, letting out a long, weary sigh as he leaned heavily against his silver cane.
"Are you alright, Ethan?" Harold asked softly, checking on the young man.
"I'm fine, sir," Ethan replied, breathing a massive sigh of relief. "I just can't believe how fast everything changed."
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"This was just the first phase, my boy," Harold said, walking toward the private executive elevator.
"Now, it's time to show you what you were truly meant to do with your life."
