Chapter 10 - The Knock on the Door
Julian’s laughter over the phone was thin, panicked, and utterly hollow.
"You think locking me out of a regional grid saves you, Victoria?" Julian snarled, his voice pitching high with desperation. "Your husband is already sitting in a private jet over international waters. My firm holds legal encumbrances against three of your father's largest commercial subsidiaries. This isn't over just because you won a digital skirmish."
"No, Julian," Alvin leaned over the table, speaking directly into the microphone of the phone with a low, terrifying calm. "It's not over. It's just beginning. Because while you were busy threatening my family, federal authorities in Switzerland were executing a reciprocal asset-seizure warrant against your primary holding accounts in Geneva."
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the phone line.
"You... you couldn't have," Julian stammered.
"My father doesn't bluff," I said softly. "Enjoy the flight, Julian. Tell Diego we said hello."
I reached out and ended the call with a firm tap on the screen.
The room fell into a profound, peaceful silence. Agent Miller let out a long, ragged sigh of relief, sliding his radio back into his tactical harness.
"I'll coordinate with international Interpol units to track the jet," Miller said, nodding respectfully toward my father and me. "Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Morales... you both just averted a major municipal disaster. The federal prosecutor's office will have a full team here by morning to formalize the seizure of Diego's remaining assets."
"Thank you, Agent," Alvin said quietly, walking Miller toward the door.
After the federal investigator stepped out into the hallway and pulled the heavy door shut, my father walked slowly back to my bedside. He pulled up the armchair, sitting down and gently taking my hand in his.
"How are you holding up, Tory?" he asked, his voice softening into the gentle, protective tone I had known since I was a little girl.
"I'm tired, Dad," I admitted, letting my head rest back against the pillow as the adrenaline finally began to drain from my veins. "And the babies... they've had a very long, very cold day."
Alvin smiled, squeezing my hand tightly. "They're strong. They get that from their mother."
Before I could answer, a soft, tentative knock echoed against the heavy wooden door of the VIP room.
May you like
Alvin frowned, standing up and walking over to pull the door open, expecting another federal agent or a late-night nurse.
Instead, standing in the doorway, pale, disheveled, and trembling under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway, was Brenna Morales.
