Chapter 81 The Legacy Forged
Chapter 81 The Legacy Forged
The peace of the Vance Syndicate was never to be still. It was the frightening stillness of a predator at the top of the food chain waiting for its prey to make a fatal mistake.
Six months later, one group of a gang of rogue European corporations wanted to put the new king to the test.
They believed that the Golden Boy and the Ice King had gone to the dark side and that the Vance bloodline had become soft. They launched an elite, heavily armed mercenary force to violently take over our most profitable multi-billion-dollar shipping port in the glittering coastal city of Monaco.
They had no idea that they weren't battling the Kings. They were engaged in a battle with the inheritors.
Julian and I didn't go into the underground war room. We were in our fancy, big mountain penthouse, wearing dark silk and cashmere, with crystal glasses of expensive bourbon. We were observing the giant, highly encrypted tactical screens that were installed in the glass of our floor-to-ceiling windows without a break.
In the war room, miles down below, our 15-year-old son was utterly alone at the table of the glowing glass.
He didn't wear tactical armor. His dark, white academy sweater was clean, and his icy blue eyes mirrored the digital matrix that cascaded across his screens. He had the titanium master-access drive in his hands, and he had control of it like he was its master, terrifyingly.
Coach Elias' voice crackled over the secure comms from the European Overwatch station. "They've broken into the primary loading docks, Prince. They are well armed and are readying C4 on the cargo freighters.
My son spoke in a manner that was as clear and forceful as mine: "Let them walk right into the kill box.
His long fingers raced across the encrypted keyboard at supersonic speeds. He didn't only break into the port's security grid. He fully militarized the whole digital infrastructure of the city.
Our son whispered, "I am cutting their eyes. He hit the last, crushing key.
The sparkling, colorful shoreline of Monaco was eliminated on the live satellite transmission. The glittering, colorful coastline of Monaco was wiped off the live satellite feed. We had a massive, absolute digital blackout in our shipping district due to our son. Now the pitch-black night of the Mediterranean was complete, and the mercenaries of the cartel were totally blind.
I whispered in the penthouse, leaning my back flush against Julian's wide, thick-chested chest, “Flawless execution.”
“Watch the sky, Kaelen,” Julian growled darkly, his hot, big hand cupping my repaired heart possessively, and a deep, unhinged, feral pride burned in his black eyes.
The Vance chopper was a massive, stealthy chopper that descended silently over the blacked-out Monaco port on the thermal monitors.
The side doors were heavy and opened.
Our daughter didn't wait for the fast-ropes. She was wearing sleek, custom-made pitch-black tactical armor, and the heavy black-gold Vance signet was on her glove, and she was completely giving in to gravity.
She jumped out of the chopper, landing in the cold night air, flawlessly.
She came crashing into the middle of the cartel's formation like a meteor that hit the Earth. The steel loading dock under her boots was totally dented from the heavy impact of her feet. Before the mercenaries with their blonds could even get their assault rifles up and running, the little queen unleashed her inherited hellfire in full force.
She drew her heavy twin combat blades, razor-sharp.
A blood-soaked masterpiece of kinetic velocity and physical slaughter. She moved with the speed and agility of ice and the terrifying and devastating power of her father. She parried a blind shot and twisted around to thrust her blade through the first mercenary's tactical vest. She jumped from a large shipping container and transferred all her momentum into breaking the collarbone of another operative.
Her dark, all-too-lethal voice rang out over the penthouse comms, "I have the high ground. There are no loose ends; no one gets in touch with Vance Cargo.
The thermal cameras revealed nothing at all of rogue life on the Monaco docks in less than four minutes.
The entire system and structure of the cartel had been systematically and thoroughly slaughtered.
In the war room, our son, with ease, restored power to the Monaco grid. The lights of the city came back on, and our daughter stood unscathed in the middle of the carnage, with her combat blades dripping with new red blood.
She peered straight into the overhead advanced drone's lens. Her eyes were as black as night, and she was so arrogant that she was acting like the world was going to end.
A deep, demonic laugh, rumbling from Julian Vance's chest, reverberated through my spine. He wrapped his giant arms around me and pushed a hot, branding kiss right into my jaw.
"Oh, they're unstoppable, Kaelen," Julian said darkly, his eyes fixed on our heirs. “An empire we created, but the universe shall be conquered by them.”
My king, the underworld is all theirs," I whispered, resting my head against his sturdy shoulder.
Blood, ice, and dark diamond had solidified the legacy of the Golden Boy and the Ice King. The throne of eternity was firmly established, and the dynasty of the Vances would be the rulers of the shadows of the earth forever.