Chapter 35 - The Judas Frequency
I stepped forward before Dante could raise his weapon, positioning myself directly between Julianna’s barrel and my husband’s chest. Clara was strapped securely to my front in the tactical carrier, shielded by my own body.
"Step aside, Brianna," Julianna purred, her eyes flicking to the bundle on my chest with predatory hunger. "You’ve played the devoted, betrayed housewife long enough. The curtain is down. The play is over. Give me the baby, and I’ll make sure your death is painless."
"You really think you're getting out of this alive, Julianna?" I asked, my voice chillingly calm. "Look around you. You’re holding a gun on us in a basement, waiting for a transport that isn't coming. Do you honestly think Castiglione is going to let you live after you failed to secure the keys on the yacht?"
Julianna’s finger tightened slightly on the trigger. A flicker of doubt crossed her eyes, fast as a lightning strike, but she masked it with a sneer. "Castiglione made me. Everything I am belongs to the Sovereign House."
"No," Dante rasped, stepping up beside me, refusing to let me take the bullet alone. "Castiglione used you to destroy Vance Global. The moment the purge protocol went live, your personal offshore accounts were frozen too. Check your burner, Julianna. Check the balance on your Sovereign Token."
A low, mocking chuckle echoed from the shadows behind the diesel generator.
Arthur Vance stepped into the amber light.
He had changed out of his torn tuxedo into a dark winter coat. His face was bloodied, but in his eyes burned the desperate, cornered madness of a man who had traded his soul and found out the check had bounced.
"He's right, my dear," Arthur muttered, raising his own weapon—a nickel-plated revolver—and leveling it directly at Julianna’s back.
Julianna froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Arthur? What are you doing? We had an agreement!"
"Agreements are for solvent men!" Arthur screamed, spit flying from his lips. "Castiglione burned my name from the ledger! The only way I survive tonight is if I deliver both Dante’s corpse and the infant directly to the Tribunal myself! Drop the gun, Julianna, or I swear to God I’ll paint this floor with your brains!"
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In that split second of fractured loyalty—the heartbeat where predator turned on predator—I moved.
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