Chapter 5 - The Betrayal Within the Bloodline
The blinding high beams of the SUV cast long, distorted shadows across the wet asphalt of the alleyway, illuminating the barrel of the gun in Marcus Vance’s hand with terrifying clarity.
Marcus’s face was twisted into a mask of frantic, desperate fury, his chest heaving as he aimed the weapon straight at his older brother.
"Put the cigar down, Viktor," Marcus shouted, his voice echoing off the brick walls with hysterical instability.
"It’s over. The board has already voted to invoke the emergency leadership clause. You're out."
Viktor didn't flinch.
He didn't even release his grip on Clara's chin, slowly turning his head to look at his younger brother with an expression of profound, chilling disappointment.
"You always were impatient, Marcus," Viktor said, his voice entirely devoid of fear, dripping with cold authority.
"You think a boardroom coup staged by a bunch of terrified cowards gives you control of Vance Global?"
"It gives me everything!" Marcus screamed, his finger twitching nervously against the trigger.
"You let sentimentality blind you, Viktor! You kept this cleaning woman around because you're pathetic, just like Richard Sterling was before we ruined him!"
Clara’s blood ran ice-cold at hearing Marcus proudly confess to her father's ruin so casually.
Viktor’s dark eyes narrowed into slits of pure, unadulterated violence.
The air between the brothers grew heavy, crackling with lethal tension.
"You killed Richard," Viktor stated, his voice a low, deadly growl.
"You engineered the fraudulent audit that destroyed his company, and you cut the brake lines on his car when he threatened to expose our offshore accounts to the federal prosecutors."
Marcus laughed hysterically, his face pale with sweat under the glaring headlights.
"And what if I did?! He was a liability! Just like you're about to become!"
Marcus shifted the barrel of the gun slightly, aiming it directly at Clara’s chest.
"Step away from her, Viktor, or I put a bullet through her heart right now."
Clara braced herself, her mind racing for a way to disarm Marcus, knowing she had zero tactical advantage in her current clothes.
Instead of panicking, Viktor smiled—a dark, terrifying expression that made Marcus instinctively take a half-step back.
"You shouldn't have brought a gun to a family reunion, little brother," Viktor whispered.
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Before Marcus could pull the trigger, the sound of multiple heavy footsteps echoed from both ends of the alleyway.
Dozens of armed tactical operatives dressed in black matte gear poured into the alley, their laser sights instantly painting Marcus’s chest in a web of crimson dots.
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