Chapter 9 - The Last Loose End
There was only one traitor left.
Leo was hiding in a private terminal at O'Hare International Airport, desperately waiting for a charter flight to South America. He was broke, abandoned, and terrified.
He paced nervously in the luxury lounge, clutching a briefcase with whatever cash he had managed to scrape together from his personal safe.
The glass doors of the lounge slid open.
Leo froze.
Silas sat in his wheelchair in the doorway, blocking the exit. Declan stood behind him, looking like the grim reaper in a tailored suit.
"Going somewhere, Leo?" Silas asked smoothly.
"Uncle Silas," Leo stammered, dropping the briefcase. "Please. It was Marcus! He poisoned my mind! He told me the families were going to revolt if I didn't step up!"
"You always were weak, Leo," Silas sighed, rolling himself slightly into the room. "You wanted the crown, but you didn't want the weight of it. You left me in that room on my birthday to die of humiliation."
"I'm family!" Leo cried, dropping to his knees. "You can't kill your own blood!"
"You're right," Silas agreed. "I can't."
Leo let out a breath of relief.
"But the Volkov cartel can," Silas added coldly. "Remember that thirty million I drained from your accounts? I didn't keep it. I wired it to the Russians, along with a file containing all the shipping routes you stole from them last year. I told them where to find you."
Leo’s face went chalk white. "No... Silas, please!"
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Silas turned his wheelchair around. "Your flight has been canceled, Leo. Enjoy your wait."
As Silas and Declan walked down the concourse, a group of heavily tattooed men in leather jackets walked past them, heading straight for the VIP lounge. Silas didn't look back when the screaming started.
