The air in the press conference froze. William Vance’s face, once a mask of triumphant arrogance, turned a blotchy, furious red. The file Ethan had thrown down contained irrefutable proof: lab reports, bank transfers to the assassin, audio recordings. Every camera in the room swiveled from William to Ethan.
“Lies! Forgeries!” William shrieked, his voice cracking. “This is a coup! Security, arrest this imposter! He is a nobody, a fraud trying to steal the Vance fortune!”
The special forces soldiers flanking Ethan raised their rifles an inch. The air crackled with menace. No one moved.
Ethan’s voice was as cold as a tomb. “Your security,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the terrified guards, “now answers to me. The true heir.”
One by one, the shareholders, who moments ago were applauding William, began to tremble. An elderly board member, his face pale, took a hesitant step forward and bowed deeply. “Chairman Vance,” he stammered, looking at Ethan. “We… we were deceived by this monster. We recognize you as the rightful head of the Vance dynasty.”
Instantly, like a tidal wave of submission, every other shareholder and executive in the room bowed their heads. “Chairman Vance!” they chorused, their voices laced with fear.
Just then, the main doors burst open again. This time, it was the FBI. “William Vance,” the lead agent declared, brandishing a warrant. “You are under arrest for the murder of Alistair Vance.”
William’s eyes bulged with disbelief as agents slapped handcuffs on his wrists. The cameras flashed, broadcasting his humiliation to the world. “You won’t get away with this, Ethan!” he screamed, his face contorted with hate as he was dragged away. “I’ll destroy you from my prison cell! You hear me? This isn’t over!”
Watching the live feed from a dark, undisclosed location, William’s son Brian trembled with rage. His father’s empire had crumbled in minutes. His face twisted into a snarl of pure hatred. He pulled out a small remote, his thumb hovering over the single red button.
“If my father goes down,” he hissed, “then you’re coming with him, you bastard.” He slammed his thumb down, activating the time bomb planted deep beneath the Vance Tower.