Chapter 91 The Final Burial

Chapter 91 The Final Burial
The Vance Syndicate's massive stealth jet wasn't set down on a clean, lit-up catwalk.

It landed in the middle of the frozen wastes of Siberia, where the freezing cold was thirty degrees below zero and the blizzard whistled away the horizon.

This was the edge of the land. The only place where a ghost might be forever buried.

The jet's heavy hydraulic ramp dropped with a thud that shook the ground and struck the thick permafrost.

Julian Vance was a massive, menacing, all-male figure, walking down the ramp in the blinding white snow. He was clad in black arctic tactical gear and his heavy combat blade was strapped to his thigh. He pulled the shattered, cuffed body of Valerius by the shredded sleeve of his tattered suit in his coarse, rough hand.

I walked in perfect step with my King. I didn't shiver. The dark, bespoke thermal armor clung perfectly to my elite skater's physique. My heart was beating in a cold and hard, and pure rhythm. Ice had always been my realm.

Valerius was thrown forward with great force by Julian. The once-proud leader of the Shattered Crown fell to the frozen tundra, his breath rising and falling quickly in the deadly air, his noble face stripped of all its old pride.

Do you think that taking me out here will make any difference?" Valerius gasped, his cold steel eyes frantically scanning the empty roaring wasteland. "The Praetorian Shadows are eternal! They will be coming for you!

“They already did,” I said coldly.

The snow that enveloped our jet was pure and all of a sudden it exploded.

Valerius had activated the last, last, last fail-safe beacon in his biology. The last eight men in his army were eight heavily armored, deeply fanatical Praetorian assassins who had burrowed themselves in the snow to ambush the landing zone.

They lifted their cumbersome rifles and their drawn broadswords and shouted a terrible battle-cry for their fallen leader.

They were totally unaware that they had stumbled upon the last slaughter.

"Erase them, Kaelen," Julian growled darkly, his pitch-black eyes burning with deeply unhinged, feral anticipation.

I never took a gun. I had my twin custom combat blades and I gave in to the blinding speed of the frozen earth.

I didn't need a perfectly polished indoor arena to be the absolute perfection of the ice. My canvas was the slick, frozen permafrost of Siberia, where death awaited me. I lowered myself and moved my hips perfectly under a volley of muzzle reports. Embracing the pent-up energy of an Olympic gold medalist, I jumped off a rough, icy ledge with a burst of energy.

I moved with blinding speed, supersonic velocity, and my heavy steel blades crashed straight through the visors of the first two assassins in a perfect and devastating trajectory.

They fell into the snow, their blood like dark crimson flowers on the ice.

Julian Vance completely unchained the monster. The scary dictator of the underworld refused to take evasive action. He charged straight through the middle of the remaining Praetorians, pure and devastating alpha destruction. A huge assassin wielded a heavy broadsword; Julian seized the man's armored wrist and with a loud crack, the bone was broken completely, and he brutally cleaved the throat of the guard standing beside him with the assassin's own sword.

The ambush was a mere 42 seconds long.

The freezing wind whipped over the eight broken and bleeding bodies scattered across the ice. The perimeter of the Vance area was 100% and forever secure.

I stood over the carnage, flicking the crimson from my twin blades, breathing flawlessly.

My earpiece crackled into life, obliterating the storm.

Our 15-year-old son's voice rang out loud and clear on the secure frequency, "Papa. Dad. The global purge is one hundred percent complete. His brilliant, icy-blue mind exuded an absolute authority, felt like it was in the Swiss war room, thousands of miles away. “All of the servers, all of the offshore accounts, all of the sleeper cells associated with the Shattered Crown are gone—there's nothing left of them on the planet.

Our daughter added, "We completely burned their ghost out of us. “It's all ours!“It is all ours!

To my earpiece, I whispered, "Flawless execution, my Prince, little Queen.

Back to the middle of the ice, Julian and I focused our eyes.

Valerius remained on his knees, gazing at the dead bodies of his last, final army. He was so shocked that his brain was blown away. He had no gold. He had no soldiers. There was no inheritance for him.

Slowly Julian Vance approached him, drawing his heavy, brutal combat blade.

You tried to touch my Consort's heart," Julian growled darkly, his deep voice dropping to a lethal, freezing zero that completely dominated the arctic storm. You were trying to take our eternity, which we created in blood.

You're all monsters! A broken, piteous cry of utter surrender, “Valerius screamed”

No, Valerius, I corrected perfectly, stepping right up to my husband, the cold, deadly power of the Mafia Consort radiating from my body. “You wanted to rule the ice, so you will rot forever under it, we are kings.”

Julian and I were so synchronized in Pairs that it was breath-taking and unbroken.

We didn't even think twice. My twin tactical swords and Julian's heavy combat blade plunged with perfect force and violence into Valerius' chest at the same time.

The last of the old world fell dead on the frozen tundra of Siberia.

The war was now ended forever.

His huge chest heaved as Julian tore his blade from the ground. He turned to me, his big, burning hand clutched to the back of my neck, his face pressed to mine. He crushed his mouth into mine in a big, burning, and all-consuming kiss of ultimate, final victory.

The freezing storm raged around us, but I was completely immersed in his solid, muscular body. My heart was beating perfectly in my chest, with no one able to touch it.
Hours later, the Vance stealth jet descended back into the towering, impenetrable peaks of the Swiss Alps.

When Julian and I walked into the subterranean war room of our mountain chateau, the heavy magnetic doors clicked permanently shut behind us. Our teenage heirs stood perfectly at the glowing tactical table, the massive digital monitors displaying a completely flawless, secure global grid.
The entire earth had finally bowed to the dark.

Julian wrapped his massive arm securely around my waist, pulling me flush against his side as we looked at our son and daughter. The Golden Boy who had lost his Olympic dream had completely conquered the underworld. The Ice King who had believed his bloodline was cursed had forged an eternal, beautiful family.

We had completely shattered our enemies, erased the ghosts of the past, and built a breathtaking, unstoppable dynasty.

The Vance Syndicate was the undisputed, eternal master of both the physical and digital worlds. And as the four of us stood in the absolute, untouchable nerve center of our empire, our legacy was permanently sealed.

A family that would rule the shadows forever—bound by blood, forged in ice, and ruled with absolute, unwavering iron.