Chapter 155 - Fractured Lineage
The air in the subterranean tunnel felt suddenly toxic, as if the oxygen had been siphoned away.
Vincent didn't lower his weapon, but Emma could sense the microscopic tension that locked his shoulders. It was a tell—one she had learned to read during their weeks of dodging assassins and navigating corporate betrayals. He knew something.
"Don't listen to him, Emma," Vincent said, his voice flat, dangerously controlled. "He’s a master of psychological warfare. He built his fortune on tearing alliances apart before the first shot was fired."
"Is it a lie, Vincent?" Arthur mocked, taking another measured step forward, completely indifferent to the gun pointed at his skull. "Tell the girl the truth. Her grandfather, Thomas Ward, was the majority shareholder of the Calumet Steel Basin. He refused to sell to Moretti Industries. He wanted to keep the union alive, wanted to keep the city's blue-collar core intact. So your dear father, under my standing posthumous protocols, orchestrated the foreclosure, bought the debt through six shell entities, and left the Wards penniless. The girl’s father died working double shifts in a machine shop that we owned through three layers of shadow companies."
Arthur tilted his head, watching Emma with the amusement of a spider watching a fly near its web. "You didn't rise from nothing, Emma. You were systematically crushed by the very empire you are now shedding blood to protect."
Emma’s heart struck hard against her ribs. Memories flashed through her mind—her father’s cracked, calloused hands; the endless eviction notices on the kitchen counter; the bitter, silent tears her mother shed when the bank took their home on the south side. She had spent her entire youth believing it was merely the cruel, indifferent wheel of economic bad luck.
"Is this true?" Emma asked quietly, not turning her head, keeping her eyes fixed on Arthur, but directing the question to the man standing at her shoulder.
Vincent remained motionless for a long beat. "My father took over Calumet Steel thirty years ago," he said, each word heavy as lead. "I discovered the transaction records three weeks ago, while we were decrypting Bennett's black book."
"And you didn't tell me," she whispered.
"Because it changed nothing about who you are to me," Vincent answered, his voice raw, unyielding. "And because the man who ordered that foreclosure is standing right in front of us."
Arthur laughed openly. "Family loyalty is such a fragile veneer. Lower your weapons, both of you. The blackout isn't just Moretti Tower. I have shut down the power grid from Milwaukee to Gary. The governor has already declared a state of emergency. By morning, a federal administrative council will assume control of all regional infrastructure assets—a council whose executive board answers directly to me."
"You forgot one detail, grandfather," Vincent said, a dark smile touching his lips.
May you like
Arthur’s laughter ceased. His brow creased slightly. "And what might that be?"
"You built these tunnels fifty years ago," Vincent said. "You haven't checked the drainage conduits since the turn of the century. Marco—now!"
