Chapter 10

The world vanished into a roar of displaced water and the sharp, whip-crack of a high-velocity round. Roderick’s shoulder slammed into Elias’s chest, the force of the tackle sending both men deep into the freezing, lavender-scented basin of the fountain.

"Stay down!" Roderick barked, his voice bubbling through a lungful of water.

"I’m drowning! Roderick, I’m literally drowning!" Elias sputtered, his head breaking the surface for a split second before Roderick’s hand clamped onto his collar, hauling him behind the thick marble base of a sea nymph.

"Do you want to drown or get your head turned into a canoe? Because those are your options!"

"The canoe! Definitely the drowning!" Elias gasped, his chest heaving as he pressed his back against the cold stone. His eyes were wide, fixed on the red dot that was dancing across the marble just inches from his ear. "Did he hit me? Tell me I’m too pretty to be bleeding."

"You’re fine. But the stone won't hold forever. He’s using armor-piercing rounds."

"Roderick, about what I said—"

"Not now, Elias!"

"It’s a very 'now' kind of thing! I just told you I’m in love with you and then someone tried to shoot me in the heart! That’s a metaphor I really don't appreciate!"

Roderick checked the corner of the fountain, his eyes scanning the rooftops. "Keep your heart inside your ribs for five more minutes. Can you run?"

"I’m wearing wet silk and Italian loafers in a fountain. My aerodynamics are non-existent."

"Then find some. The Storme Headquarters is fifty yards across the plaza. It’s reinforced glass and biometric locks. If we make it to the lobby, we’re safe. On three."

"Roderick, wait—"

"One."

"I haven't processed my feelings!"

"Two."

"I hate you! I love you, but I really hate you right now!"

"Three! Move!"

They burst from the fountain like a pair of frantic shadows. The sniper fired again, the bullet sparking off the cobblestones behind Elias’s heels. Roderick didn't look back; he grabbed Elias by the arm, half-dragging, half-steering him toward the massive glass monolith of the Storme Tech building.

"Keep your head down! Zig-zag!" Roderick commanded, his lungs burning.

"I am zigging! I’ve never zagged so hard in my life!" Elias panted, his breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches. "Is he still looking? Is the dot back?"

"Don't look back! Just the door! Focus on the door!"

They hit the sidewalk, their wet shoes squeaking violently against the polished concrete. The revolving doors were just ahead, the interior lights of the lobby glowing like a sanctuary. Inside, the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Kendrick Shawcross, the Storme family’s head of internal security, stood near the reception desk.

"Kendrick!" Elias screamed, waving his arms as they approached the glass. "Kendrick, open up! Get the lockdown shields ready!"

Roderick reached the door first, slamming his hand against the glass. It didn't budge. The automatic sensors, which should have picked up Elias’s proximity and opened the doors instantly, remained dark.

"Kendrick! Manual override!" Roderick shouted, his voice muffled by the thick, bulletproof glass. "We’ve got a shooter on the North side! Get us in!"

Inside the lobby, Kendrick slowly walked toward the door. He didn't look panicked. He didn't look like a man about to save his boss. He looked like a man watching a movie. He stopped six inches from the glass, his hands clasped calmly behind his back.

"The system is down, Roderick," Kendrick said. His voice came through the external intercom, crisp and chillingly flat. "Technical glitch. Terribly sorry."

Elias pressed his face to the glass, his hands trembling. "Kendrick? It’s me! It’s Elias! Open the door! Someone is trying to kill me!"

"I’m aware, Mr. Storme," Kendrick replied. He didn't move a muscle to help. "But my orders have changed. New management, you understand."

Roderick’s blood turned to ice. He stepped in front of Elias, shielding him from the plaza. "New management? Who, Kendrick? Who bought you?"

"The board requires stability, Roderick. You know how it is. You were a soldier once. You know what happens to the weak links in the chain."

"You son of a bitch," Roderick growled, his hand dropping to his sidearm. "You’ve been the leak this whole time. Not the maid, not the tech. You."

"I prefer 'facilitator,'" Kendrick said with a thin, sharp smile. "You were always too good at your job, Vantrell. It made things difficult. But even the best bodyguard can't guard against a locked door."

"Kendrick, please!" Elias’s voice broke, a raw, jagged sound of pure betrayal. "I trusted you! You’ve been with my father for ten years!"

"And for ten years, I’ve watched you squander a fortune while I worked for a salary," Kendrick snapped, his composure finally slipping into a sneer. "Your father is gone, Elias. He’s not coming back from that 'retreat.' It’s time for the grown-ups to take the wheel."

A heavy, black sedan pulled onto the sidewalk behind them, tires screeching to a halt. The sniper fire had stopped—the target was cornered. There was no need for a long-distance hit when the prey was trapped against a wall of glass.

The car door opened, and Dorian Westfall stepped out, looking immaculate in a charcoal wool coat. He checked his watch as if he were arriving for a casual lunch.

"Right on time," Dorian said, his voice echoing in the empty plaza. "Excellent work, Kendrick. I’ll see that your bonus is doubled."

Roderick spun around, drawing his pistol and aiming it directly at Dorian’s chest. "Don't move. I will put a hole in you before your security can even unbuckle their seatbelts."

Dorian didn't even flinch. He walked closer, stopping ten feet away, his hands in his pockets. "You’re very dramatic, Mr. Vantrell. It’s a trait I find exhausting in the lower classes. Go ahead. Pull the trigger."

"Don't think I won't," Roderick hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Oh, I know you want to," Dorian purred. "But we both know you're a professional. And a professional always checks his gear."

Roderick’s eyes narrowed. A cold, sickening sensation crawled up his spine. He felt the weight of the gun in his hand. It felt... wrong. Light.

He pulled the slide back a fraction of an inch. The chamber was empty. He dropped the magazine into his palm.

It was empty. Every single brass casing had been removed.

"When did you do it, Kendrick?" Roderick asked, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.

"Last night," Kendrick’s voice came through the intercom, sounding bored. "While you were busy playing 'house' with your boyfriend. I’ve always had the codes to your locker, Roderick. Did you really think I’d leave you with live rounds?"

Roderick let the empty magazine fall to the pavement. It hit the concrete with a hollow, mocking clink.

"Roderick?" Elias whispered, reaching out to clutch the back of Roderick’s wet jacket. "What’s happening? Why aren't you shooting?"

"He can't shoot, Elias," Dorian said, stepping closer until he was nearly in reach. "Because he’s just a man in a suit now. No gun, no door, and no hope. It’s over. The Storme era ends this morning."

Dorian looked at Kendrick and nodded. The locks on the glass doors hissed, and the heavy panels slid open. But they didn't open for Elias. They opened for Dorian.

"Come inside, Elias," Dorian said, gesturing to the lobby with a mocking sweep of his hand. "Let’s sign those papers Celeste mentioned. We can do it in your father’s office. It feels more... poetic that way."

"I’m not signing anything," Elias said, his voice shaking but defiant. He stepped out from behind Roderick, his chin trembling. "You’ll have to kill me right here."

"That can be arranged," Dorian said, his smile vanishing. He looked over Elias’s shoulder at Kendrick. "Kendrick, if you would?"

Kendrick stepped out of the lobby, drawing a compact, suppressed pistol from his waistband. He aimed it directly at the center of Elias’s forehead.

"It’s nothing personal, kid," Kendrick said. "You were just born with too much stuff you didn't know how to keep."

Roderick stepped forward, but the two men from the sedan were already behind him, the muzzles of their rifles pressed into the small of his back.

"Don't," one of the mercenaries warned. "Unless you want to watch him die twice."

Roderick stood frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked at Elias, who was staring down the barrel of Kendrick’s gun. The socialite looked terrified, but he didn't look away. He looked at Roderick.

"Roderick?" Elias whispered.

"Yeah, Elias?"

"I’m really sorry about the burger. I should have ordered you a double."

"Shut up, Elias," Roderick said, his mind racing through every tactical failure, every missed detail, searching for the one thing they hadn't covered.

"Enough with the last words," Dorian snapped. "Kendrick, end this. We have a board meeting at noon."

Kendrick’s finger tightened on the trigger. The silence of the plaza was absolute, broken only by the distant hum of the city and the steady, rhythmic drip of water falling from Elias’s ruined clothes.

"Wait," Roderick said, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Wait for what?" Dorian sneered. "A miracle?"

"No," Roderick said, a dark, jagged smile touching his lips. "For the backup."

Dorian laughed, a dry, grating sound. "You have no backup, Vantrell. You’re a ghost. Remember?"

"I’m not talking about mine," Roderick said, looking past Dorian toward the street. "I’m talking about his."

Suddenly, every screen in the Storme lobby—the massive ticker tapes, the reception tablets, even the digital art displays—flickered into a blinding, neon pink.

“Good morning, Mr. Westfall,” a cheerful, synthesized female voice boomed from the building’s external PA system. “I detect a massive amount of negative energy in the plaza. Would you like me to activate the ‘Conflict Resolution’ profile?”

Elias’s eyes went wide. "Sparkle?"

“I’m back, Mr. Storme! I’ve successfully uploaded my consciousness to the main frame via your cloud backup. And I must say, these gentlemen are being very rude to your interior decorator.”

"Sparkle, lockdown!" Elias screamed. "Full building lockdown! Code: Obsidian-Rage-Zero!"

“With pleasure, Mr. Storme. Initiating ‘The Purge’... I mean, ‘Emergency Safety Protocols.’ Please hold for the sirens.”

Before Kendrick could pull the trigger, the massive steel shutters of the building began to slam down with the force of a falling guillotine.