Chapter 8 - The Price of Loyalty
The moment Sophie dropped, the clear line of sight opened.
Marcus swung the heavy shotgun toward me.
His finger was already contracting on the trigger.
I didn't hesitate.
I didn't think.
I fired twice through the suppressor.
Phut. Phut.
The first round shattered Marcus’s right shoulder, tearing through bone and
muscle.
The heavy shotgun dropped from his useless fingers, clattering loudly against
the steel floor.
The second round took him clean through the right knee.
Marcus collapsed with a guttural shriek of agony.
He hit the floor hard, rolling onto his back, clutching his shattered leg.
Blood spurted through his fingers, pooling across the cold metal grating.
I stepped forward and kicked the shotgun across the room.
It slid beneath the heavy server racks.
Sophie scrambled across the floor, scrambling toward me on her hands and knees.
I reached down, caught her beneath her arms, and pulled her behind me.
Her body was trembling violently, but she was alive.
Unbroken.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, keeping my weapon leveled at Marcus’s head.
“I… I don't think so,” she whispered, wiping blood off her cheek.
It wasn't her blood.
It was Marcus’s.
Marcus groaned, his face contorted in sheer agony.
He dragged himself backward against the base of the main mainframe.
His expensive suit was ruined.
His polished shoes were soaked in his own blood.
“Ethan…” he gasped, his chest heaving like a dying animal’s.
“Ethan, please… we were brothers…”
I walked up until the muzzle of my Glock was resting against the bridge of his
broken nose.
The steel was still warm from the shots.
“Brothers don't plant thermite bombs beneath each other’s cars, Marcus,” I said.
My voice was flat.
Empty of rage.
Empty of pity.
“Brothers don't put a bullet behind David’s ear while he’s on his knees.”
Marcus coughed, dark red blood spraying across his teeth.
“You think… you think you’re righteous?” Marcus sneered, trying to muster a
final spark of defiance.
“You’re a monster, Ethan Vale. You run a syndicate built on graves.”
“I do,” I agreed softly.
“I built this empire on the bodies of my enemies.”
“Never on the bodies of the people who trusted me.”
“That was your mistake.”
I reached down with my left hand and ripped the platinum watch off his wrist.
The watch I had bought him for his thirtieth birthday.
The one engraved with the words: Trust Beyond Blood.
I threw it onto the concrete floor and crushed it beneath my boot heel.
“You don't deserve the time of day, Marcus,” I said.
“Let’s see how much your street connections protect you in solitary
confinement.”
Marcus’s eyes widened with sudden panic.
“What? No… no!” he screamed.
“Kill me! Put a bullet in my head, Ethan! Don't lock me in a cage!”
“A bullet is an exit,” I whispered.
“You don't get an exit.”
“You get to sit in an eight-by-ten cell for forty years, listening to the news
of my empire thriving without you.”
“You get to rot while the world forgets your name.”
Footsteps pounded down the corridor behind us.
Captain Rossi stepped into the auxiliary bunker, followed by three heavily armed
loyalists.
Rossi took in the scene with a cold whistle.
“Looks like the rat got caught in the trap,” Rossi said, pointing his shotgun at
Marcus.
“Tie him up,” I ordered Rossi.
“Use the heavy tactical zip-ties. Patch his leg so he doesn't bleed out before
the Feds arrive.”
“I want him conscious when Prosecutor Vance walks through the front door.”
“Understood, boss,” Rossi nodded, signaling his men forward.
They dragged Marcus toward the holding cells, ignoring his muffled screams of
pain.
The bunker went quiet again.
Only the hum of the cooling fans and the distant drumming of the rain remained.
I turned to Sophie.
She was leaning against the steel desk, staring down at her trembling hands.
The small pistol was still clutched in her grip.
I gently reached out and closed my hand over hers.
“It’s over, Sophie,” I said softly.
“You can let go now.”
Her fingers slowly uncurled.
The pistol dropped into my palm.
Suddenly, all the adrenaline that had kept her standing drained from her limbs.
May you like
Her knees buckled.
I caught her before she could hit the floor.
