Chapter 9 - The Inner Circle’s BetrayalSilence descended upon the boardroom so complete that the hum of the air conditioning sounded like a jet engine.
Marcus Vance dropped his pen, his face turning the color of curdled milk. He stood up slowly, gripping the edge of the table as if seeing a ghost risen from the grave. “D-Dominic? That’s... that’s impossible. The medical reports said—”
“The medical reports said what Veronica and your medical board paid them to say, Marcus,” Dominic interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a razor. He walked slowly down the center aisle, his leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. Every step he took forced Anthony and Marcus to shrink back into their chairs.
Veronica, who had been sitting quietly in the corner observing the meeting, shot out of her chair, her face twisted in absolute horror. “You’re dead!” she shrieked, her aristocratic composure shattering instantly. “You were supposed to die in that bed!”
Dominic stopped at the foot of the table, placing both hands flat on the polished mahogany, leaning forward into their space.
“Is that what you told the mechanic who cut my brake lines on the FDR, Veronica?” Dominic asked softly, his voice dangerously calm. “Is that what you told Paul when you wired the fifty-thousand-dollar down payment from your personal account to his offshore holding?”
Marcus stammered, raising a shaking finger. “This... this is an illegal entry! You’re not medically cleared to—guards! Security!”
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The double doors swung open again, but it wasn't corporate security that marched in. It was a squad of federal marshals in tactical gear, led by an FBI director holding a federal arrest warrant.
“Marcus Vance, Anthony Moretti, and Veronica Hayes,” the lead agent announced, flashing a shiny silver badge. “You’re under arrest for corporate conspiracy, attempted assassination, wire fraud, and interstate financial laundering.”
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