“Sarah.” Adrian’s scream was raw, terrifying. He did not check the computer. He did not care about the company. He scrambled to her side, his hands instantly covered in red. “No, no, no,” Adrian gasped, pressing his hands against her wound. “Stay with me. Sarah, look at me.” Kane stood up, ready to fire the kill shot. He was smiling. But before he could pull the trigger, the computer terminal let out a loud, cheerful chime. Upload complete. Files being sent. Confirmation to D.C. Immediately, the building’s PA system crackled to life, but it was not an alarm. It was a voice, amplified, authoritative, and coming from outside. “This is the FBI. The building is surrounded. Drop your weapons and exit with your hands up. We have thermal imaging and snipers on the roof.”
Kane’s smile vanished. He looked at the exit. The heavy iron doors were blown inward by a concussive breach charge. Dozens of agents in FBI windbreakers swarmed into the room, laser sights cutting through the smoke. “Federal agents. Get down. Get down.” The remaining mercenaries dropped their weapons instantly. Kane stood there for a second, looking at the ruined server room, at the bleeding waitress, and the billionaire holding her. He dropped his gun. It clattered to the floor, marking the end of an empire.
Adrian did not look at the agents. He did not look at Kane being handcuffed and slammed against the wall. He was looking at Sarah, whose eyes were fluttering closed. “Adrian,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the shouting agents. “Did we win?” Tears streamed down the billionaire’s face, mixing with the dust and blood. He kissed her forehead. “Yes, Sarah,” he sobbed. “We won. Now you just have to stay awake. You have to stay awake for Paris. Do you hear me?” “Paris,” she breathed. “Okay.” And then the world went black.
The beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor was the first thing Sarah heard. It was annoying, rhythmic, and reassuring. It meant she was alive. She opened her eyes. The light was soft, filtered through sheer curtains. This was not a normal hospital room. It was a suite. There were fresh lilies in a crystal vase, a plush sofa, and a view of the Manhattan skyline that suggested she was very, very high up. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her shoulder stopped her. “Easy,” a voice said. Adrian Sterling was sitting in the chair next to the bed. He looked different. The tuxedo was gone, replaced by a simple navy sweater and jeans. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but he was clean-shaven and calm. “How long?” Sarah croaked. Her throat felt like sandpaper. “Three days,” Adrian said, pouring her a glass of water with a bendy straw. “You lost a lot of blood. The bullet passed through the shoulder, missed the artery and the bone. You’re lucky. Incredibly lucky.” Sarah took a sip. “And Kane?” “In federal custody, without bail,” Adrian said, a grim satisfaction in his voice. “The files I uploaded didn’t just implicate him in the kidnapping. They tied him to three unsolved murders and a racketeering ring that spanned five continents. He’s going to die in a supermax prison. Carter Banks is testifying against him in exchange for a lighter sentence. It’s over, Sarah. The threat is gone.”