The Shadow Billionaires

CHAPTER 3: THE INTRUDER — PART 2

The shot tore through his sleeve, sending him stumbling back with a snarl. He dropped the pretense, lunged, grabbed her wrist, slammed her against the desk.

The laptop slid off, shattering on impact. The screen blinked once, then died.

“Who sent you?” she gasped, struggling against his grip.

He leaned close, his breath cold. “Same people who sent your assistant. Only, I don’t miss.”

She drove her knee upward, hard. He grunted, loosened his grip just enough for her to twist free and grab the letter opener from the desk. One swing, a slice across his forearm. He cursed, backing off.

Then the building lights went black, darkness swallowed them both. She heard him moving, the scrape of a shoe, the metallic click of a weapon.

Celeste ducked behind the couch, heartbeat hammering in her ears. Lightning flared outside, briefly outlining him near the door. Then another flash, behind him this time, a gun pressed against the back of his head.

“Drop it,” a low voice said.

The man froze, celeste knew that voice instantly. Dickson.

The shot that followed was clean and final, the intruder hit the floor.

The room filled with silence again, broken only by Celeste’s ragged breathing.

Dickson stepped into the flickering light. His shirt was damp, rain-soaked, his expression unreadable. “You were supposed to stay out of this.”

She rose slowly, anger overriding shock. “He killed Daniel. He broke into my home. and you, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m cleaning up the mess your father left behind,” he said quietly.

Her fingers tightened on the gun. “You’re part of it, aren’t you?”

He met her gaze without flinching. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the dead man’s phone, swiped through it once, and tossed it onto her desk. On the cracked screen was a message waiting to send:

“Package recovered. Target eliminated. Proceed to Phase 2.”

The sender’s ID read, The Broker.

Celeste felt the ground tilt beneath her. Dickson stepped closer. “Now do you understand why I told you not to trust anyone?”

She stared at him, voice breaking. “Including you?”

He didn’t answer.

Outside, the thunder rolled again, long and low, like a warning.

The storm began to fade, but the silence that followed was worse. Celeste stood amid the wreckage of her penthouse, shattered glass, blood on marble, two bodies cooling under the pulse of blue lightning.

Dickson holstered his gun, every motion controlled, too controlled, He’d been trained for moments like this, clean exits, no emotion, no hesitation. She hated him for it, and for the part of her that felt safer with him standing there.

“Don’t move,” she said.

“Celeste”

“I said don’t move.” Her voice cracked. “You just killed a man in my home.”

“He was going to kill you.”

“Convenient.” Her laugh was sharp and brittle. “Everyone who dies around me lately seems to have your fingerprints nearby.”

He met her glare. “You think I enjoy this?

“I don’t know what you enjoy, Mr. Ford. I don’t even know who you are.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at her with that soldier’s calm that drove her insane.

The building alarms finally caught up. A mechanical voice filled the room “Emergency lockdown initiated, all exits sealed.”

Dickson’s head lifted. “They’re coming.”

“Who?”

“The same people Daniel warned you about. The Broker’s cleanup teams.”

Celeste looked at the shattered laptop. “Then open the system, override it!”

He gave her a look that said you really think I haven’t tried that already? “Your security protocols are compromised. Whoever’s inside your network locked us both in.”

Her breath came quick. “So we’re trapped.”

“Not for long.” He crossed to the wall panel, pried it open, and pulled out a tangle of wires. “Your father built an escape elevator through the service shaft, he just never told you.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

He glanced at her. “Because he didn’t trust anyone. Not even family.”

Lightning flashed again, illuminating his profile,cut jaw, eyes like steel. She hated that he looked so calm while everything she built was collapsing.

“You knew,” she said quietly. “About my father. About his projects.”

“I knew enough.”

“And you lied to me.”

“I protected you.”

“That’s not protection, Dickson. That’s control.”

He stopped working and turned to face her. “You want honesty? Fine. Your father ran black contracts through his subsidiaries. The kind that don’t make annual reports.

He was building something, something called Operation VOW. My unit stumbled on it years ago. We tried to shut it down. He buried us instead.”

Her voice trembled. “You mean”

“He ordered the hit that erased my men. That’s why I came back, to finish it.”

The room seemed to tilt. “You married into my company for revenge.”

“No.” His voice softened, and that made it worse. “I came to find answers. You were… collateral. Until you weren’t.”

Her heart stuttered. “Don’t.”

He stepped closer. “You think I planned this? That I wanted any of it?”

“Then what do you want, Dickson?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at her as if the question itself was a wound.

The emergency lights shifted red, lockdown complete, he cursed under his breath, slammed the panel shut. “We need to move.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Then you’ll die here.”

They stared at each other, the distance between them smaller than a breath. Then the penthouse lights flickered again, and a dozen small clicks echoed around the ceiling, Celeste looked up, tiny black lenses extended from the corners, cameras, not hers.

A chill ran through her. Dickson saw it too. “They’re watching.”

He grabbed her wrist, not gently, but not cruelly either, and dragged her toward the hallway.

“Let go!” she snapped, trying to pull free.

“Not an option.”

They reached the service shaft, a narrow steel chamber hidden behind a false panel. He ripped the cover off and pried the manual latch.

“Get in,” he said.

“Where does it go?”

“Down. Away from whoever’s coming.”

She hesitated. Her penthouse, her power, her empire, all of it suddenly looked fragile. Just glass and lies, and the only solid thing left was the man she wasn’t sure she trusted.

He looked back at her, hand extended. “Celeste.”

She met his eyes, saw exhaustion there, and something else. Something dangerously human, then she took his hand. The shaft closed above them, swallowing the last trace of her world.

The elevator dropped into darkness, a smooth silent descent that felt like falling through everything she’d built. Celeste pressed her palm to the wall, whispering, “How deep does this go?”

Dickson’s answer was low, grim. “All the way to the bottom.”

Then, another sound, a faint electronic chirp, the data drive in her pocket had turned itself back on, its red light blinked, steady now. A voice emerged from it, distorted, male, cold.

“Welcome home, Celeste. Your father would be proud.”

Her blood ran cold. Dickson’s eyes met hers in the dark. Neither spoke as the elevator continued to descend, straight into the secrets her father died protecting.