Chapter 5 - The Glass Ceiling Shatters
Silence flooded the room. Jason lay still, the gun skittering across the floor. I didn't wait; I lunged for the weapon, pulling it away and checking the safety before collapsing on the floor beside Ethan.
"You're okay," I sobbed, clutching his hand. "You're actually okay."
"We aren't out of the woods yet," Ethan said, his hand trembling as he reached for his phone. He dialed a number I didn't recognize. "Marcus? It’s Ethan. The operation is compromised. I need the transport team at the north gate in five minutes. And bring the legal team—we have enough evidence to put Jason away for three lifetimes."
The next hour was a whirlwind of black-clad security teams and flashing lights. When the police finally stormed the mansion, it wasn't for Ethan—it was for Jason. They found him handcuffed to the chair where he had tried to put Ethan, with the police commissioner himself reading him his rights.
Vivian stood in the hallway, her face white as she watched her favorite protégé being led away in cuffs. She looked at me, then at Ethan—who was leaning heavily on my shoulder—and realized the game was over.
"You," she whispered, looking at Ethan with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You were awake the whole time."
"I was," Ethan said, his voice cold and commanding. "And I heard every single thing you said about me. Consider this your resignation, Grandmother. You have one hour to vacate this house, or the next thing you'll be reading about in the papers is your own indictment for accessory to attempted murder."
She turned and walked away, her chin high, but her defeat was absolute.
We watched them go from the bedroom window. The sun was starting to rise over the Hudson, casting a golden light over the estate. For the first time, the house felt like a home, not a cage.
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"You saved me," Ethan said, turning to look at me. The storm-gray eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn't quite name—gratitude, maybe, or something deeper.
"We saved each other," I replied.
