Chapter 9 - Blood on the Steel
While I was silently executing his digital footprint, Grayson realized his screens had gone black. Cornered, desperate men do not act rationally. He abandoned the keyboard and resorted to physical violence.
It was 5:00 AM. A violent coastal storm began to batter Long Island, the rain lashing against my newly finished Japanese-style roof. I was standing in my twelve-square-meter kitchen, pouring a cup of dark roast coffee. The 304 stainless steel cabinets gleamed flawlessly in the dim light. Nathaniel was sitting at the granite island, reviewing the final SEC filings for my total corporate takeover.
Suddenly, the perimeter alarms of the estate shrieked, a high-pitched wail that sliced right through the thunder.
Nathaniel instantly killed the main power breaker, plunging the entire house into pitch-black darkness. He moved like a shadow, pulling a matte-black firearm from a biometric lockbox hidden beneath the pantry floorboards.
Through the internal security monitors running on emergency power, we watched Grayson and four heavily armed mercenaries wearing tactical gear storm across the pristine front lawn. The APT Syndicate had sent an extraction team, intending to physically force me to transfer the corporate keys.
"Lock the steel bulkheads," Nathaniel commanded, his voice entirely devoid of fear.
I crouched behind the massive granite island. I didn't tremble. I was surrounded by the man who had stood by my side, inside a fortress I had designed to withstand a siege. The solid stainless-steel cabinets provided flawless ballistic cover.
Grayson kicked through the heavy front doors, his voice echoing hysterically through the dark foyer. "Evangeline! Turn the servers back on! You ruined my life!"
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He stumbled blindly into the living room, completely unaware that he had just walked into a fatal funnel. I triggered the estate’s internal security countermeasures from my mobile device. Blinding, high-intensity strobe lights mounted in the ceiling violently flashed to life, accompanied by a deafening, high-frequency acoustic alarm.
The mercenaries dropped to their knees, clutching their ears, completely blinded and disoriented. Before they could recover, Nathaniel moved with terrifying, surgical precision. He neutralized the hired muscle in seconds, zip-tying them to the floor, leaving Grayson sobbing and entirely defenseless on the very marble floor he had desecrated days prior.
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