The Billionaire’s Bride Pushed His Mother Off the Rooftop—Then the Maid Did the Unthinkable

"Guards!" Victoria snapped, leaping to her feet, her hand dipping toward the concealed holster beneath her blazer. "These people are federal fugitives wanted for domestic terrorism! Detain them!"

"Stand down!" barked Special Agent Harrison, stepping forward with his badge displayed and his service weapon drawn. "The warrants for Nathaniel Vance and Rosalind Sterling were vacated two hours ago by the Deputy Director of National Intelligence. We have reviewed the uncorrupted server logs recovered from the Grand Regent's backup servers. We know who planted the charges, Miss Thorne."

The board members gasped, backing away from the table as if Eleanor and Victoria were carriers of a lethal contagion.

Rose walked forward, her heels clicking rhythmically against the Italian marble, stopping directly across the table from Victoria. She unclipped the titanium cylinder from her neck and slammed it onto the glass conference interface.

"The Sterling master cipher," Rose announced, her voice commanding the entire room. "Authenticated by my mother's bloodline, verified by the central reserve. Every offshore account Eleanor attempted to siphon has just been permanently frozen. The Obsidian Circle's funding across seven continents is dead in the water."

Victoria’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure, unadulterated hatred. "You miserable gutter rat. You were scrubbing my floors three months ago."

"And now I'm evicting you from the world," Rose replied evenly.

Eleanor slowly leaned back in her high-backed leather chair, a slow, terrible smile spreading across her aristocratic lips. She didn't look defeated; she looked amused, like a grandmaster watching a novice capture a decoy queen.

"Did you really believe it would be this easy, my darling boy?" Eleanor purred, meeting Nathaniel’s eyes.

She pressed a hidden switch beneath the mahogany armrest.

A shrill frequency shrieked across all electronic devices in the room. The expansive panoramic smart-glass windows overlooking Manhattan instantly frosted opaque, locking down the executive suite in total blackout. Simultaneously, the lights died, plunging the boardroom into pitch darkness save for the blinking red emergency strobes.

*Pfft-pfft-pfft!*

The sharp sound of suppressed weapons fire tore through the dark. Screams of terror echoed as the boardroom turned into a slaughterhouse. Eleanor’s sleeper operatives within the corporate security detail had engaged.

"Rose, get down!" Nathaniel tackled Rose beneath the heavy conference table as shards of wood and glass exploded above their heads.

In the crimson glow of the emergency lights, Victoria moved with blinding speed. She didn't aim for Rose—she pulled a high-tech smoke deployer from her pocket, slammed it to the floor, and grabbed Eleanor by the arm. A hidden wall panel behind the executive chair slid open, revealing an unmapped private escape chute installed during the building's construction.

"This isn't over, Nathaniel!" Victoria's voice hissed through the dense smoke. "Check your tactical feeds! You may have frozen the accounts, but we have the grid!"

By the time Nathaniel and Lucas breached the smoke and reached the head of the table, the secret panel had sealed shut with magnetic locks that defied their overriding codes.