Chapter 214: Assassination
Ryan looked at Evelyn. The final choice was hers.
Evelyn stared at the old man before her. She remembered her mother’s diary mentioning a "brother trapped by circumstances." Did she hate him? Of course. If not for Victor’s greed, her mother wouldn't have died, and she wouldn't have grown up an orphan.
But letting him simply go to prison felt too easy.
"I don't accept private apologies," Evelyn said, her voice like iron. "And I don't want you to seek peace of mind through a prison cell."
She pointed out the window at the glittering Manhattan skyline.
"I want a global press conference. In front of every camera, every journalist, and the entire world, you will confess every crime the Lawrence family has committed over the last thirty years."
She leaned in, her eyes cold. "Open every ledger of every illegal deal. Apologize to every victim. Then, set up a compensation fund using half of the family’s total assets to pay for those sins."
Victor snapped his head up, shock written all over his face.
This was a death sentence for the dynasty. Once public, a century of prestige would vanish. The stock would collapse.
"Can’t do it?" Evelyn sneered. "Then get out. Don’t play the repentant saint in front of me."
Ryan stood by in silence, but his eyes were full of pride. This was the woman he loved. She didn't want cheap tears; she wanted a total reckoning.
Victor looked at Evelyn’s face—a face so much like Madeleine's. Finally, he let out a long, broken sigh and slumped into his wheelchair.
"Fine." Victor closed his eyes as two tears escaped. "We will do it your way. It is what the family owes you."
Three days later.
The plaza in front of the Lawrence Group headquarters was packed. Hundreds of media outlets were present, with news helicopters circling overhead. The giant LED screens didn't show advertisements. They simply displayed one word in stark white against a black background: ATONEMENT.
Victor Lawrence walked onto the stage, leaning on Ryan for support. He had no script. Wearing a simple black shirt, he looked frail and gaunt. Evelyn watched from a wheelchair at the side of the stage, wrapped in a blanket, her expression unreadable.
"I am Victor Lawrence," the old man began. His voice trembled through the microphone, but it was clear. "Today, I do not speak for the Lawrence Group. I speak only for myself—as a criminal."
The crowd erupted in a frenzy of whispers.
Victor began to tell the story. He started with a wrong decision thirty years ago. He spoke of the birth of the Twin Snakes, the blood-stained profits, Madeleine’s death, and Bernie’s sacrifice. Every word hit like a hammer.
The live streams crashed under the traffic. Within ten minutes of the market opening, the Lawrence Group stock hit its limit down.
But he wasn't finished. Victor held a thick file above his head.
"Here is the evidence of every illegal transaction and a list of the victims. As of today, the Lawrence family will establish a ten-billion-dollar fund to compensate them down to the last cent. Following this conference, I will surrender myself to the FBI."
He let the documents scatter at his feet and bowed deeply. He stayed down for a full minute.
Ryan stood behind his father, watching that hunched back. The family empire was ruined, but for the first time, it felt clean.
While all eyes were on Victor, a man in a beige trench coat stood at the edge of the press pen. He lowered the brim of his cap, his dark eyes fixed on Evelyn.
He was the last high-level assassin of the Twin Snakes, codenamed "Viper." The organization was gone, the bases destroyed, the money dried up. But someone had to pay. If not for this woman and her evidence, they wouldn't have lost.
Viper reached into his camera bag and gripped a suppressed pistol. Journalists were shouting questions, and security was busy with the crowd. No one noticed him. He raised the weapon, using a photographer’s shoulder as cover. He lined up the shot, aiming right for the center of Evelyn’s forehead.
"Go to hell, Lawrence bitch," he whispered. His finger tightened on the trigger.
As he fired, a figure lunged from the side, slamming into the gunman’s waist.
Thwip!
The gun went off, but the bullet missed Evelyn’s head, sparking off the metal frame of her wheelchair.
"Get him!" Ethan’s voice roared.
The usually gentle doctor was now a man possessed. He pinned the assassin’s wrist to the ground, driving his knee into the man’s spine. Viper snarled, swinging his heavy bag into Ethan’s head while trying to aim the gun again.
"I won't let you touch her!" Ethan screamed, ignore the blows to his face as he forced the muzzle toward the sky.
Thwip! Thwip! Two more shots went into the air.
Chaos broke out. Screams filled the plaza as people scrambled for cover. Ryan reacted instantly, throwing himself over Evelyn, shielding her with his broad back.
"Don't move!"
Once he saw she was safe, Ryan turned around, his eyes burning with killing intent. Security and federal agents swarmed the area, guns drawn on the pinned assassin.
"Drop the weapon! Now!"
Viper looked at the sea of police and let go. He had lost. His final strike was ruined by a doctor who only knew how to hold a scalpel.
Ethan slumped back, gasping for air. A knife wound on his arm from the struggle was bleeding heavily, staining his white shirt red.
"Ethan!" Evelyn pushed past Ryan, looking down at him in panic.
"I’m fine... just a scratch." Ethan looked up at her and forced a weak smile. "I'm glad I made it. I saw him watching you... he didn't have the eyes of a reporter."
Ryan walked over and reached out a hand to his former rival. His expression was complicated but sincere. "Thanks."
Ethan took the hand and stood up, wincing in pain. "Don't get the wrong idea. I just didn't want my friend to get hurt."
On stage, Victor didn't stop. He stood behind a ballistic shield and looked into the cameras to deliver his final line.
"This is the price of sin. I accept my judgment."
He held out his hands, allowing the federal agents to click the handcuffs into place.