Chapter 12 - The Lockdown of the Citadel and the Shadow on the Horizon
The executive floor of Vance Enterprises transformed into a fortress within two hours of Viktor’s warning note arriving.
Private tactical operatives, dressed in matte-black gear and carrying specialized counter-surveillance equipment, secured every access point, elevator shaft, and stairwell from the ground floor to the penthouse suite.
Elena sat behind the obsidian conference table, surrounded by security monitors displaying live feeds of the building's perimeter.
Despite Julian’s fierce objections, she refused to leave the building, knowing that abandoning her post would signal weakness to a predator like Viktor.
"Perimeter sweep of the parking garage is clean, Ms. Vance," the lead tactical commander reported over the secure comms earpiece.
"All secondary exits are bolted. No unauthorized personnel detected."
"Keep monitoring the freight elevators," Elena instructed calmly into her desk mic.
"Viktor didn't survive thirty years in a high-security asylum by walking through the front door."
Julian walked into the boardroom, carrying two cups of black coffee, his expression carved from deep anxiety.
He set one cup down in front of her, leaning against the obsidian surface.
"You're taking an unnecessary risk by staying here, Elena," Julian said quietly, watching her closely.
"Viktor is a master of psychological warfare. He wants you isolated, paranoid, and making mistakes."
"I haven't made a mistake since the night Christian tried to discard me, Julian," Elena replied, taking a slow sip of the bitter coffee.
"If Viktor wants his legacy back, he has to come through me."
Before Julian could reply, the entire boardroom plunged into absolute darkness.
The overhead recessed LED lights flickered once, twice, and then died completely.
Simultaneously, the secure security monitors on the wall sparked, hissed, and flashed a single, blinding line of red text across every screen:
BREACH DETECTED - LEVEL B4.
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Julian’s hand instantly dropped beneath his jacket, unholstering a sleek, suppressed pistol with practiced military precision.
"They're inside," Julian whispered, his blue eyes locking onto the heavy mahogany doors of the boardroom.
