Chapter 49 - The Blood Ledger of St. Moritz
The ballroom erupted into sheer, unadulterated madness as billionaires and corporate barons scrambled for the exits like rats on a sinking vessel.
Beatrice backed away from me, her manicured fingers clawing at the pearls around her neck as if they were choking her.
"Kill her!" Beatrice shrieked to the security team, losing all composure. "Kill both of them right now!"
Before the lead guard could raise his weapon, Marcus moved with lethal, military precision.
He drew the ceramic pistol from beneath his coat, firing two suppressed shots through the chest of the guard to our left.
The body hit the polished floor with a dull, heavy thud, spraying dark blood across the white marble.
I grabbed Beatrice by the throat, slamming her backward onto the velvet chaise and pressing the barrel of Marcus’s backup piece against her temple.
"Tell your men to drop their weapons, or you won't live long enough to watch your banks collapse," I commanded, my voice cold as absolute zero.
The guards froze, their rifles hesitating as they looked at their bleeding employer.
"Drop them!" Beatrice gasped, the terror in her eyes finally replacing decades of untouchable arrogance.
Ten rifles clattered heavily onto the marble tiles, echoing through the cavernous hall.
"Marcus, secure the perimeter and signal the Swiss Federal Police," I ordered without taking my eyes off Beatrice.
"They’ve been waiting forty-eight hours for the offshore server logs we decrypted in New York."
"You think the police can touch us?" Beatrice spat, blood trickling from the corner of her cracked lip.
"We own the courts, we own the ministers, we own the very ground you stand on!"
"You owned them when you had eighty billion dollars in collateral," I replied, digging the cold barrel deeper into her skin.
"Right now, you are thirty billion in debt to every sovereign wealth fund in the Middle East, and your name is flagged on Interpol’s red notice."
I leaned in closer, watching the realization dawn behind her cold, aristocratic eyes.
"My mother didn't run away to hide, Beatrice," I said, pulling the emerald pendant from my neck and letting it dangle before her face.
"She stayed in New York to keep you focused on Arthur while she built the financial trap that would bury your entire syndicate."
"She knew I would find the trail when I was ready."
"She knew that the day you broke me would be the day I became strong enough to destroy you."
Beatrice began to tremble, real tears of humiliation and panic spilling down her powdered cheeks.
"Arthur... Arthur didn't want to hurt you, Claire," she whimpered, grasping at any lie to save her miserable skin.
"It was Eleanor... Eleanor begged us to replace you with Chloe... she promised Chloe would be easier to control!"
"Eleanor is already rotting in a federal pen," I said, stepping back and letting her collapse onto the floor like a discarded doll.
"And your turn has finally arrived."
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Outside the hotel’s towering French doors, the rhythmic thumping of police helicopters shook the crystal chandeliers above.
Blue and white emergency strobes flooded the room, illuminating the ruins of Zurich’s most untouchable dynasty.
