A ONE-YEAR-OLD GIRL RAN SCREAMING AS HER STEPMOTHER CHASED HER WITH A BASEBALL BAT! Her mother arrived just seconds before disaster struck. But when the little girl opened her tiny fist, the USB inside made her father turn pale—and her stepmother tremble in terror!

Julian Vance possessed the kind of aristocratic, predatory handsome looks that belonged on the cover of Forbes, paired with the cold, dead eyes of a reptile. He stood sixty feet away in the center of the rotunda, surrounded by four remaining armed mercenaries whose laser sights painted red targeting dots across Harrison’s chest.

Evelyn scurried to Vance’s side like an obedient, rabid dog. “Julian, they have the drive! Harrison unlocked Arthur’s files! They know everything!”

Vance didn't even look at her. He raised a gloved hand, and with shocking, dismissive brutality, backhanded Evelyn across the face.

The crack resonated through the cavernous rotunda. Evelyn fell hard to the marble floor, gasping in shock, clutching her bleeding jaw.

“Quiet, you incompetent amateur,” Vance said smoothly, not taking his eyes off Harrison. “You were given one simple task eighteen months ago: secure the patents, eliminate the old man, and manage this corporate lightweight until the merger was finalized. Instead, you get outmaneuvered by a one-year-old child and a disgraced ex-wife.”

Harrison stepped fully out of the study, keeping his body positioned squarely in front of Clara and Lily. The Sig Sauer remained leveled at Vance’s forehead.

“You’re too late, Julian,” Harrison said, his voice echoing with cold, unyielding authority. “The drive is already decrypted. Every transaction, every offshore shell company in the Cayman Islands, every forged toxicology report regarding my father’s murder... it’s all on that hardware.”

Vance let out a dry, amused chuckle that sent shivers down Clara’s spine.

“Harrison, my dear boy... do you really think Arthur’s drive was meant for the police?” Vance shook his head with mock pity. “Your father was a brilliant pharmacologist, but he was a naive fool when it came to global finance. That red drive doesn't just contain evidence of my takeover. It contains the proprietary molecular formulas for the neuro-inhibitor your company developed. A drug capable of reversing early-onset Alzheimer’s. A drug worth forty billion dollars on the private market.”

Clara gasped from behind Harrison. “You killed Arthur not just to take over the company... but to steal the formula and sell it to foreign cartels.”

“Of course, Clara,” Vance replied, smiling warmly as if explaining a simple math problem to school children. “Why sell medicine to insurance companies for pennies when private syndicates will pay billions to keep the patent exclusive? Arthur was going to release the patent into the public domain. Can you imagine such disgusting, socialist stupidity? Forty billion dollars, given away for free!”

Vance gestured to his mercenaries.

“Kill Harrison. Kill Clara. Bring me the baby and the drive. We have a private jet waiting at Teterboro, and I have a meeting in Dubai at sunrise.”

The four mercenaries raised their carbines, the crimson laser sights converging on Harrison’s heart.

Harrison didn't move. He didn't blink.

Instead, he slowly raised his left hand, revealing a small, black remote detonator with a single, glowing blue switch—the primary control for the estate’s industrial fire suppression system.

“You forgot one thing about this house, Julian,” Harrison said softly.

Vance’s smile vanished. “What are you talking about?”

“My father didn't just build a mansion,” Harrison whispered. “He built a laboratory. And when you design a bio-pharma facility, the clean rooms are equipped with high-pressure Halon gas fire suppression to protect sensitive chemical compounds.”

Harrison thumbed the blue switch.