The Billionaire Lifted His Coffee to His Lips Until a Little Boy Whispered Four Words That Saved His Life

Julian smashed the glass with his elbow, ignoring the cuts tearing through his expensive jacket, and ripped the heavy red fire axe from its mount. The other executives screamed, scrambling away from the table, pressing themselves against the far wall of the boardroom.

Arthur didn't flinch. He raised the revolver, aiming it directly at the chest of the man he had groomed to be his successor.

"Put it down, Julian," Arthur commanded.

"Or what?" Julian spat, his face twisted in a mixture of rage and desperation. He held the axe with white-knuckled grip. "You'll shoot me in front of the entire board? The police will lock you away for life."

"You orchestrated an assassination attempt," Arthur said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I am defending my life, my building, and the future of this company. Drop the axe."

Julian laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "You're a fossil, Arthur! You're obsessed with 'legacy' and 'saving lives.' Do you know how much Phalanx Pharma offered me to let that assassin in? Fifty million dollars. Plus a guaranteed CEO position once your empire was absorbed into theirs. Fifty million, Arthur! You pay me well, but you don't pay me 'buy a private island' well."

"You sold your soul for a promotion," Arthur said in disgust.

"I secured my future!" Julian yelled. "The blonde man is the best in the world. He doesn't fail. Even if you shoot me, he's coming up those stairs right now. He'll slaughter your security chief, he'll kill that little rat of a kid who saw him, and he will end you."

At the mention of Leo, something snapped inside Arthur. He didn't just see a traitor anymore; he saw a monster who was perfectly comfortable with collateral damage.

"You underestimate Vance," Arthur said. "And you vastly underestimate me."

Suddenly, the heavy boardroom doors shattered inward.

The blonde assassin burst into the room. He looked battered—his charcoal suit torn, a massive bruise forming on his jaw from Vance's punch—but he was holding a newly acquired weapon: a tactical shotgun he had stripped from one of the downed security guards in the lobby.

"Get down!" Arthur roared at his executives.

The assassin pumped the shotgun and fired. The blast pulverized the mahogany table, sending wooden shrapnel flying. Arthur dove behind the massive marble credenza, returning fire with his revolver. The deafening roar of the gunshots echoed in the confined space, blowing out the remaining glass walls.

Julian, seizing the chaos, sprinted out of the shattered boardroom doors, abandoning his hired killer.

The assassin took cover behind a fallen pillar. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small silver vial Leo had seen earlier. He threw it across the floor. It rolled and stopped inches from Arthur's cover.

It wasn't just poison. It was a pressurized aerosol grenade.

"Neuro-gas!" the blonde man shouted over the ringing in their ears. "Breathe deep, Sterling."

Arthur held his breath, scrambling backward. He grabbed a heavy bronze sculpture from a display pedestal and hurled it blindly through the broken window to the outside, hoping the sudden rush of wind from the storm outside would dilute the gas.

A hand grabbed Arthur by the collar and yanked him backward through a side door.

It was Vance.

Vance slammed the door shut, sealing the gas inside the boardroom. "Move, move, move! We have to secure the penthouse!"