Daniel’s face drained of color. He looked at the giant lobby screens playing his damning confession, then frantically turned to his corporate security team.
“Turn it off!” he screamed, his polished facade crumbling. “She’s a fraud! Shoot her!”
Not a single guard moved.
Under the VIP Founder Protocol, my badge didn’t just change the screens. It transferred absolute command of the building. I owned them now.
“You think a video saves you, Elena?” Daniel snarled, backing toward the private elevator. “Without the driver, you have no actual witness. It’s just a deepfake.”
He pulled a silver pistol from his tailored coat. Vanessa shrieked and dropped to the marble floor, covering her head.
Daniel aimed directly at my bruised face. “I’ll just finish the job myself.”
“I really wouldn’t do that, boss,” a gruff voice echoed.
The imposing security guard standing directly behind Daniel stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a tactical rifle against the back of his skull.
Daniel froze.
The guard slowly removed his cap.
It was the driver from the video. The hitman.
I spat a drop of blood onto the pristine marble and smiled.
“Did you really think a Somor woman wouldn’t outbid you?” I asked, my voice cutting through the dead-silent lobby.
I had walked six miles through the rain, yes. But I didn’t walk alone. I paid him triple to fake my crash, plant his damaged SUV in Daniel’s private garage, and return the one thing I needed most: my mother’s bracelet.
“The police are waiting in the basement, Daniel.” I turned my dead-eyed stare to the arrogant manager trembling on the floor. “And Vanessa?”
She whimpered.
“You’re fired. But before the cops take you for being an accomplice, you’re going to scrub my blood off this floor.”
Sirens wailed outside the massive glass doors. I slipped my mother’s silver bracelet onto my wrist.
The Queen was back.