Chapter 24 - The Art of RuinThe fallout was instantaneous and catastrophic for the Sterling matriarch.
By midnight, the judges who had accepted her bribes were resigning in disgrace. The FBI task force that was hunting us suddenly pivoted, raiding Eleanor’s penthouses in New York and London. But Eleanor was a rat. She knew how to hide.
My phone buzzed. It was an encrypted text from an unknown number.
You think you are clever, Isabella. Meet me where it all started. Alone. Or I release the fail-safe.
"She's cornered," I said, showing the message to Sofia.
"It's a trap," Sofia warned, grabbing my arm. "Do not go."
"I have to," I replied, my voice steady. "If she has a fail-safe that can harm Leo, I have to end this tonight. But I won't be going in blind."
The location was the original Vanguard Holdings high-rise in downtown Chicago—a monolithic glass tower that was now completely empty, seized by the feds during Victor's downfall.
I walked through the shattered glass doors of the lobby, my heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. I took the private elevator to the penthouse boardroom.
Eleanor was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the city lights. She looked older now. The elegant, untouchable facade had cracked. She was holding a small, black detonator switch in her hand.
"A physical explosive?" I asked mockingly, stepping into the room. "That is incredibly archaic, even for you."
"It's wired to the structural supports of your Tuscan estate," she sneered, turning to face me. "You ruined my reputation. You destroyed my life's work in twelve hours. But I will wipe your home off the map. Sign the transfer for the encryption keys, or your beautiful olive groves turn to ash."
I didn't flinch. I slowly walked toward the massive oak boardroom table and took a seat at the head of it.
"Go ahead," I said calmly. "Press it."
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. "You think I won't?"
"I know you will," I smiled. "But you should probably check your phone first."
She hesitated, then pulled her smartphone from her pocket. Her face drained of all color.
"While you were busy wiring explosives to a house I already abandoned," I explained softly, "Sofia and I used The Hydra to trace the signal of your detonator. We didn't just block it. We reverse-routed it. That button in your hand isn't connected to Tuscany anymore, Eleanor. It’s connected to the Cayman Island servers holding the last three billion dollars of your personal, untraceable wealth."
May you like
Her hand began to shake violently.
"Press it," I commanded, my voice echoing like thunder in the empty room. "Press the button and blow up your own fortune. Or drop it, and walk out of here with nothing but the clothes on your back into the waiting arms of the FBI."
