Chapter 4 - An Enemy in the Ranks
"Julian," Adrian said calmly, raising his hands slowly while taking mental inventory of the room. The heavy mahogany desk was two feet to his left; a glass lamp stood on a side table to his right. "I should have known. You were always jealous of Preston’s share of the company."
"Jealous?" Julian laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "Preston was our father’s favorite! She got sixty percent of Sherrill Industries while I was left with scraps! She was going to sell the chemical division—my division! I couldn't let her destroy everything I built."
"So you poisoned her," Adrian said, keeping Julian talking to buy time. "You used your connections with the syndicate to get Tetrodotoxin, paid off this crooked doctor, and arranged a quick burial."
"It was foolproof," Julian sneered, tightening his finger on the trigger. "A grieving family, a closed casket, a quick burial in the private estate vault. No autopsy, no questions. She would have simply gone to sleep underground, and I would have inherited her shares as the surviving blood relative. But you and that meddling kid ruined everything."
"Leave Payson out of this!" Adrian snapped.
"Oh, it's too late for that," Julian grinned maliciously. "Did you really think you were the only one keeping track of time tonight, Adrian? Check your phone."
Adrian’s stomach dropped. He reached into his pocket with his left hand and pulled out his burner phone. A text message had just arrived from an unknown number, accompanied by a photo.
The picture showed the exterior of the safe house where Marcus was supposed to be guarding Payson. The front door was wide open, and standing in the doorway was Captain Richard Vance, holding a pair of handcuffs in one hand and Payson's plush toy in the other.
Below the photo was a simple caption: Hand over the toxicology files and surrender, or the boy pays for his mother's sins.
"You see, Adrian?" Julian said, taking a step closer. "Captain Vance has been on my payroll for five years. Organized crime doesn't just happen on the streets; it operates from the highest offices. You never had a chance."
In that fraction of a second, as Julian gloated, Adrian acted. He dove to the left, grabbing the heavy mahogany lamp and hurling it directly at Julian’s head.
The glass shattered against Julian’s face, causing the gun to go off wildly into the ceiling. Adrian surged forward like a missile, tackling Julian across the desk. Papers, blood, and glass flew everywhere as the two men crashed onto the floor.
Adrian rained down a fury of punches, disarming Julian and pinning him to the ground. He grabbed Julian by the collar, pulling his bruised face close.
"Where are they taking my son?" Adrian roared.
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Julian spat blood onto Adrian's shirt, laughing maniacally. "To the old docks... Pier 42. But you're already too late, Salim! You can't save both of them!"
Adrian slammed Julian’s head against the floorboards, knocking him unconscious. He grabbed the fallen gun from the floor, pulled the keys to Julian’s luxury sports car from his pocket, and ran out into the rainy night.
