Chapter 8 - The Financial Guillotine
Silas physically staggered backward, all the color violently draining from his arrogant face. The cinematic realism of his absolute, unadulterated terror was paralyzing.
Damien stepped out from the shadows on the ground floor.
He wasn't wearing his brown suit. He was dressed in all black, holding a heavy tactical handgun. The terrifying apex predator walked slowly toward his brother, completely ignoring the six mercenaries, who immediately dropped their weapons in sheer surrender.
"Damien..." Silas gasped, his voice cracking with pure, humiliating panic. "What... what are you doing here? The doctor was trying to extort the family!"
"You poisoned my wife," Damien whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark, demonic promise of violence. "You stole my daughter. You made me grieve for five years while you stood next to me and smiled."
Silas dropped to his knees, completely abandoning his tough-guy persona. "Damien, please! I had to do it! Clara was making you soft! You were going to legitimize the business! I had to protect the empire!"
Damien didn't yell. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket.
"You don't have an empire," Damien stated coldly.
He tapped the screen once.
"While you were driving here to silence the doctor," Damien explained smoothly, "my cyber-team accessed your penthouse servers. We seized every single offshore account you drained from the syndicate. We liquidated your shell companies. You are completely, permanently bankrupt."
Silas let out a horrific, high-pitched shriek of pure agony.
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"And I forwarded the evidence of your theft to the Russian cartel you owe money to," Damien added ruthlessly.
👉 Silas begged for a quick bullet, but the punishment Damien unleashed was far worse than death.
