The yellow cab disappeared into the heavy rain.
Back in the penthouse suite, Axel stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. He stared at the screen of his phone. The four words glared back at him.
I am pregnant.
His jaw tightened. He adjusted the platinum cufflink on his left wrist, a sharp, rigid movement.
Serena walked up behind him. She tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.
Axel pressed the side button. The screen went black. He placed the phone face-down on the glass coffee table.
Before Serena could speak, a heavy, deafening thud echoed through the suite, as if a medieval battering ram had just struck the entrance.
The hallway alarm shrieked. Red strobe lights began to flash through the frosted glass of the double doors.
The mahogany doors burst inward. The wood splintered violently around the lock, sending sharp fragments skittering across the marble floor.
Bradley stepped into the room. Five massive bodyguards in black suits fanned out behind him.
Serena let out a high-pitched scream. She grabbed her collarbone and shrank behind Axel's broad back.
Axel did not flinch. He looked at his younger brother with eyes as cold as dead ash.
Bradley pointed a shaking finger at Axel's face. "You used illegal wiretaps on the merger! You set me up with the board!"
Axel let out a low, dismissive scoff. He didn't even bother to open his mouth to explain.
The blatant disrespect pushed Bradley over the edge. He jerked his chin at his men. "Take him."
The bodyguards lunged forward.
Before they could cross the room, the heavy thud of tactical boots echoed from the corridor.
Ian Sterling marched into the suite. Behind him poured a dozen private military contractors, fully geared in black tactical armor.
The PMCs raised their riot shields. In three seconds, they formed a solid wall, separating Bradley's men from Axel.
Ian drew a tactical stun gun from his holster. He aimed the red laser dot squarely at Bradley's chest. "Stand down. Now."
One of Bradley's bodyguards reached inside his jacket.
A PMC stepped forward, grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it sharply, and drove a knee into his stomach. The bodyguard collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
Serena gripped Axel's sleeve tighter, her fingernails digging into the fabric. She let out a manufactured whimper.
Axel looked down at her hand. The weight of the message on his phone made the intimacy feel suddenly intrusive. He pulled his arm away, his mind already miles away.
Two PMCs moved in on Bradley. They grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back.
Bradley struggled, his face turning purple. "You're a machine, Axel! You have no blood in your veins!"
Axel walked slowly across the room. He stopped inches from Bradley's face. He looked down at him.
"If you ever step foot on this floor again," Axel said, his voice a low, flat rumble, "I will freeze every trust fund in your name. You will be begging for change on the subway."
The color drained from Bradley's face. The anger in his eyes fractured into raw panic.
Ian gave a sharp hand signal. The PMCs dragged Bradley and his men out of the suite and toward the freight elevator.
The room fell dead silent. The only sound was the crunch of splintered wood under Ian's boots as he walked back in.
"Do we call the police, sir?" Ian asked, keeping his voice low.
Axel shook his head. "Keep it out of the press. Suppress everything."
He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his car keys. He strode toward the ruined doors.
"Get the car ready," Axel ordered without looking back. "But first, get the legal team on the line. I need to spend the next few hours neutralizing whatever poison Bradley just fed the board. No one leaves until this is contained."
It took four grueling hours of conference calls and veiled threats before the crisis was finally stabilized. Only then did he head to the Hamptons. He walked out, leaving Serena standing alone in the middle of the wrecked room.
