Chapter 66
Luke Victor's POV
"I didn't!" Hank's voice exploded through the chapel's silence, equal parts righteous fury and barely concealed panic. "Luke, these are nothing but vicious lies! Bill served me faithfully for twenty years. I treated him well. How could he possibly do something like this behind my back?"
His performance was Oscar-worthy—the picture of a man betrayed by a trusted lieutenant, all wounded dignity and disbelief.
He turned to the elders, whose expressions ranged from confusion to unease. "Gentlemen, I've served the Victor family with unwavering loyalty. My devotion has never wavered! Bill must have been manipulated by outsiders, or perhaps he harbored some hidden grudge. Whatever drove him to such treachery, the fault lies with me. I failed to see his true nature. I take full responsibility. I'll personally bring that bastard to justice and deal with him according to Victor family law. You have my word."
Textbook deflection.
He'd scrubbed himself clean in thirty seconds flat, dumping all the blame on a disloyal subordinate. Now he was playing the noble patriarch, ready to clean house himself—transforming catastrophic arson into a simple case of poor personnel management.
I could see it working. Several elders were already softening, their rigid postures relaxing incrementally.
After all, the evidence nailed Bill to the wall. But it couldn't definitively prove Hank had orchestrated anything.
Victor family justice demanded ironclad proof.
I remained in my chair at the head of the gathering, fingers tracing the cold carvings on the armrest with deliberate slowness. Inside, I was ice.
Of course, this evidence alone wouldn't destroy him. I'd never expected a warehouse fire to land this old fox in federal prison.
What I wanted was this performance.
This precise moment of desperate theater.
"Mr. Harris makes a valid point," I said at last, my voice so calm it seemed to leech warmth from the air itself. The words stopped Hank's next prepared statement dead in his throat.
He stared at me, baffled, clearly wondering what game I was playing.
I rose slowly from my seat, my gaze drifting across the portraits of our ancestors before returning to the living. "Bill does need to be dealt with. But not through family law." I glanced at Andy. "Take him into custody. Along with all this evidence, hand him over to the police. Arson that destroyed nearly a hundred million dollars in company assets—that's a federal felony. Let the law handle it."
I paused, watching Hank's pupils contract to pinpoints.
"Also," I continued, my tone as casual as if discussing the weather, "compile all of Bill's offshore account transactions. Every wire transfer. His financial connections to Nordic Shipping and those shell companies. Put together a comprehensive package and send it along. Anonymously, of course."
That was what the FBI really wanted.
Andy inclined his head slightly, understanding gleaming behind his glasses.
Hank's face went ashen.
He hadn't anticipated this level of ruthlessness—that I'd not only sacrifice Bill but also expose the entire shadow network to federal scrutiny.
Bill knew too much. Once the FBI got their hooks in him, the consequences would be catastrophic.
But Hank couldn't object.
I held the moral high ground—proper procedure, by-the-book justice. Any protest would reek of guilt.
"Dealing with Bill is simple enough," I said, shifting gears as my gaze locked onto him like a targeting system. The calm evaporated, replaced by something blade-sharp. "But what I really want to know, Mr. Harris, is how your most trusted lieutenant—a man with access to your money, your connections, your operations—could torch Victor family property while you remained blissfully ignorant. Is this truly incompetence? Or did you look the other way?"
"Luke, this is outrageous!" Hank finally dropped his mask, his face flushing crimson.
"Outrageous?" Lily's laugh was pure venom. She flung another folder at his feet, papers scattering across the marble like damning evidence in a courtroom drama. The sheets were covered with charts and data—the same materials Emily had presented at the board meeting, now expanded with even more devastating detail.
"Hank, open your damn eyes and look!" Lily jabbed her finger at the numbers, showing no mercy. "Your gambling operations and smuggling networks—how much have profits dropped over the past three years? How much have operating costs and legal exposure increased? After that dock disaster, how many millions did the company burn to cover your mess? These ventures have been bleeding us dry, and instead of cutting our losses, you let your people burn down our one profitable new initiative. This isn't poor management. You're trying to drag the entire Victor family down with your sinking ship!"
The dock incident's fallout still lingered like smoke in the air. Now, with fresh flames added to the pyre, even Hank's remaining allies studied the financial reports scattered at their feet, then glanced toward the dark skyline of our empire beyond the windows.
Silence.
They weren't fools.
Hank's playbook had expired. Following him now meant going down with the Titanic.
I watched the defeat creep across Hank's features and knew my moment had arrived.
"I propose," I announced, my words falling like a judge's gavel, "a vote of no confidence. A man who can't control his own subordinates, who brings nothing but losses and disasters to this company, has no right to control any aspect of Victor family operations."
The silence that followed was absolute.
My move had shocked them all—this wasn't just about punishment. This was a coup.
Hank swayed on his feet, as if I'd physically struck him.
He finally understood. This tribunal had never been about judging Bill.
It had been about taking his crown.
"I… I second the motion." One of Hank's longtime allies—a man who'd backed him through countless battles—was the first to raise his hand. His voice sounded like gravel scraping pavement.
Where one led, others followed. Second hand. Third. Fourth.
The dam had broken.
Hank watched his former allies turn on him one by one, and something shattered behind his eyes. He collapsed onto the floor, aging a decade in an instant.
Finally, he lifted his head, his voice reduced to a hoarse rasp. "I… accept the judgment."
He looked at me, hatred still burning beneath the defeat, but forced himself to speak. "I'll surrender control of all my operations. The company can restructure them however it sees fit. All I ask—given my years of service to this family—is that I retain my position as an elder."
His last shred of dignity. His only remaining refuge.
"Agreed," I said, my expression giving nothing away.
His life had never been my target. I'd come for his empire.
A bloodless war, fought before the eyes of our ancestors, ended in total victory.
---
As the tribunal dispersed, Lily watched Hank being helped out by two subordinates, his posture that of a broken man. Her face radiated satisfaction.
"Luke, we won!"
I said nothing, turning instead to face those cold ancestral portraits once more.
Won?
I'd merely cut off one of the enemy's claws. The true beast lurking in the shadows had yet to bare its fangs.
Hank was stupid, yes. But he was also vicious.
Why had he been willing to self-immolate just to destroy Emily's project? Why was he so convinced that without Emily, I'd cease to be a threat?
There had to be something deeper driving his desperation.
I pulled out my phone. The screen still displayed that photograph—Emily meeting with Professor Douglas.
My Miss Windsor. I'd cleared the first obstacle from your path.
Now it's your move.
I'm waiting for you to tell me what secret could drive Hank to such madness.
And whether that blade you've been holding to my throat has quietly shifted direction.
Or if it's still pointed straight at my heart.