The last thing Margot Ashford said before leaving her fiancé alone in the cemetery sounded almost casual. “Call someone who cares, Elias.” Then the locks clicked.

The moment Elias pressed the hidden button, high-decibel tactical strobe lights exploded from four corners of the warehouse ceiling, blinding Victor and his mercenaries with disorienting, rapid bursts of white light.

At the exact same instant, automated steel blast doors slammed down over the main exits, sealing the warehouse completely.

“Kill them!” Victor shrieked, covering his eyes as the blinding light burned his retinas.

The mercenaries fired blindly into the darkness, the sound of suppressed gunfire hammering against the concrete walls.

Marcus Vance had already moved. Diving behind a reinforced steel workbench, he fired three precise shots. Two mercenaries dropped instantly to the floor, their weapons clattering against the concrete.

Down on the main floor, Elias maneuvered his high-speed mechanical wheelchair with terrifying precision, utilizing the construction layout he had memorized weeks ago.

He swept around a row of steel beams, grabbing a heavy iron wrench from a workbench and hurling it with brutal force into the face of a third mercenary who was trying to acquire a target. The man collapsed backward, unconscious.

“Clara! Get down!” Elias shouted over the deafening noise.

Clara didn't hide. Knowing the layout of the upper mezzanine better than anyone, she ran to the main control junction near the fire escape.

She grabbed a heavy industrial fire extinguisher from the wall, pulled the pin, and leaned over the handrail directly above Victor Ashford.

She unleashed a thick, blinding cloud of white chemical foam directly onto Victor’s head and face.

“Gah! My eyes!” Victor screamed, stumbling backward, completely blinded and coughing uncontrollably as the dense chemical powder coated his face.

The final mercenary turned his weapon toward the mezzanine to shoot Clara.

BANG.

A single shot rang out from the darkness near the display desk.

Marcus Vance stood perfectly still, his weapon raised, smoke curling from the barrel. The fourth mercenary dropped to his knees and collapsed onto the concrete floor.

The warehouse suddenly fell into complete silence, save for the hum of the strobe lights that Elias now switched off, leaving only the dim red emergency illumination.

Victor Ashford was on his knees in the center of the floor, covered in white fire-extinguisher foam, weeping and gasping for air.

Elias rolled his wheelchair up to the fallen surgeon. He stopped inches away from Victor’s shaking frame.

Clara descended the mezzanine stairs, her breath coming in quick gasps, her hands trembling slightly from adrenaline, but her eyes bright and resolute. She stood directly beside Elias.

Elias looked down at the man who had tried to play God with his life, his family, and his empire.

“It’s over, Victor,” Elias said, his voice dropping into a register of finality. “There are no foreign investors coming to save you. There are no Cayman accounts left. You are completely alone.”

Heavy battering rams began to strike the steel blast doors from the outside.

A moment later, federal tactical units smashed through the reinforced entries, pouring into the warehouse with flashlights and long guns.

Leading the federal squad was Assistant US Attorney Harrison, holding an arrest warrant.

“Federal agents! Stay where you are!” Harrison yelled, before seeing the four neutralised mercenaries and Victor Ashford sobbing on the floor.

Harrison looked at Elias, then at Marcus, and finally at Clara.

“Mr. Baron... Dr. Dunn,” Harrison said, lowering his weapon in sheer astonishment. “We tracked the illegal signal from Vanguard’s safehouse thirty minutes ago. It looks like you didn't need our assistance.”

Elias adjusted his dark cuffs, looking back at the prosecutor.

“We simply kept the garbage in one place until the sanitation department arrived, Prosecutor,” Elias said smoothly.

Harrison smiled grimly, waving his agents forward. “Take Victor Ashford into federal custody. High-security solitary holding. No bail this time.”

As the agents dragged Victor away in heavy chains, Victor looked back at Clara one last time, his eyes full of pathetic defeat.

Clara didn't look away. She watched him leave, feeling the final embers of her past trauma vanish into the cold winter air.

She felt a gentle hand brush against her arm.

Elias was sitting beside her, looking up into her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” Elias asked softly, genuine concern in his dark eyes.