Chapter 8 - THE SHATTERED GLASS
Before any of the federal agents could move, Bianca reached into the open drawer beneath the podium and pulled out a small, nickel-plated revolver she kept for personal security.
"GET BACK!" Bianca shrieked, pointing the gun wildly at the crowd of directors. "ALL OF YOU, GET BACK OR I'LL BLOW THIS ENTIRE PLACE TO HELL!"
The board members screamed, scrambling under the heavy teak table for safety. The tactical team instantly raised their rifles, but Eleanor held up a hand, halting them.
"Bianca, put the gun down!" Eleanor shouted. "It's over! There is nowhere left to run!"
"It's not over!" Bianca screamed, her hair falling out of its neat bun, her face twisted in pure hysteria. She aimed the barrel directly at Evelyn’s chest. "She ruined everything! If she had just died in that trunk three years ago, none of this would be happening! You were supposed to starve, Evelyn! Why didn't you just die?!"
I instantly stepped in front of Evelyn, shielding her body with mine. "Put the gun down, Bianca. Look at yourself. You're done."
"Get out of the way, Julian!" Bianca roared, tears of rage spilling down her cheeks. "You were always the favorite! Father loved you! He gave you everything while I worked twenty hours a day running his docks! I earned this company! I earned every single dollar!"
"You didn't earn it," I said, taking a slow step toward her. "You murdered father. You poisoned his drink with digitalis. We have the forensic records from his vault. We have the hidden will."
Bianca's hand shook violently. "He was going to disinherit me! He was going to give controlling shares to YOU! A man who spent his life sailing boats and painting pictures! He was going to ruin everything I worked for!"
"He knew you were corrupt, Bianca," I said coldly, taking another step. "He knew you were selling out to Apex."
"DON'T MOVE!" Bianca screamed, pulling the hammer back on the revolver.
Evelyn gripped my waist from behind, her voice soft but strong in my ear. "Julian... the window behind her."
I noticed it immediately. The heavy rain storm outside was creating immense wind pressure against the outer glass walls of the penthouses. A structural warning light near the floor was blinking amber—the high-pressure seal on the floor-to-ceiling glass panel behind Bianca had been damaged when the double doors were blown open by the tactical team.
"Bianca," I said softly, keeping her focus entirely on me. "Look behind you."
"I'm not falling for your tricks!" she spat, pointing the gun directly between my eyes. "If I'm going to prison for life, you're coming with me, brother!"
She squeezed the trigger.
CLICK.
The gun misfired. The old firing pin clicked harmlessly against a dud round.
Before she could pull the trigger a second time, Special Agent Miller fired a single, non-lethal rubber bullet from his tactical launcher. The high-velocity impact hit Bianca right in the shoulder, knocking her backward with immense force.
She crashed violently into the giant, floor-to-ceiling glass panel behind her.
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The structural glass, already weakened by the storm's gale-force winds, shattered into millions of sparkling green fragments.
Bianca screamed as the eighty-story storm winds roared into the auditorium like a tornadic blast, sucking papers, chairs, and curtains out into the rainy void!
