Chapter 5 - The Unmasking in the Suite
Julian paused, his hand resting on the brass handle of the suite’s exit door.
He turned around slowly, offering a smooth, effortless smile that didn't reach his cold, dark eyes.
"I’m going to the lobby to inform the rest of the family board that Oliver is going to recover, Claire," Julian said smoothly. "It has been a long night for all of us."
"You aren't going to the lobby, Mr. Ashford," Claire said, reaching into her wet handbag. "You're going to your private car to destroy the rest of the research files from the Mayfair Annex."
Edward raised his head from Oliver’s bedside. He wiped the tears from his eyes, standing up slowly to his full, imposing height. His sharp gray eyes fixed on his younger brother.
"What are you talking about, Claire?" Edward asked, his voice low, heavy, and dangerous.
Claire pulled out the wet, crumpled biohazard report she had retrieved from the annex floor. She walked over to Edward, handing it to him.
"Three months ago," Claire explained, her voice steady and clear, "Julian imported a controlled biological culture of Trypanosoma brucei rhodesiense through Ashford Global Logistics's private cargo shipping line in Zambia."
Julian laughed—a loud, barking sound of forced amusement. "This is absurd! Edward, you aren't actually listening to this delusional girl, are you? She’s a domestic housekeeper! She’s probably trying to set up an extortion scheme to pay off her father's bank debts!"
"The manifest bears your private digital encryption key, Julian," Claire said, turning to face him. "And the biohazard report from Harley Street Research confirms that you conducted bite-vector testing on laboratory animals using tsetse flies infected with the East African parasite strain."
Edward stared down at the paper in his hands.
As the chairman of Ashford Global, Edward knew every corporate stamp, every digital signature, and every shipping route listed on the document. His face transformed from grief to a dark, terrifying mask of absolute, murderous rage.
"Julian..." Edward whispered, his voice vibrating with a fury so deep the floorboards seemed to hum. "What is this?"
"It’s a forgery!" Julian shouted, his calm facade finally cracking. "She stole those papers from the foundation archives! She’s framing me!"
"Then why did your private mercenaries ambush me at the annex twenty minutes ago?" Claire asked quietly.
Julian froze.
"They wore navy blue leather rain jackets with the logo of Apex Security," Claire continued, pulling her phone from her pocket. "The same private security firm that handles your personal protection in Zambia. I recorded their voice logs on my phone when they blew the basement circuit breaker."
She clicked play on her phone’s recorder.
A harsh, recorded voice echoed through the hospital suite:
“Julian said she has the foundation keys! Leave the thermal bag on the table and walk away! Mr. Julian Ashford just wants to make sure the foundation inventory stays consistent!”
The room went completely dead silent.
Dr. Hale gasped, backing away toward the corner. The nurses stepped away from Julian as if he were covered in plague.
Julian stared at the phone playing his name back to him. His jaw twitched violently. All the charm, all the aristocratic refinement, vanished in a single instant, revealing the desperate, greedy predator underneath.
"He was going to ruin everything, Edward!" Julian suddenly screamed, pointing a shaking, furious finger at Oliver lying in the bed! "You were going to hand seventy percent of Ashford Global to that twenty-one-year-old weakling! A boy who spends his time writing poetry and collecting insects in Africa while I built our shipping empire with my blood and sweat!"
Edward took a step toward his brother, his hands clenched into massive, stone-like fists.
"You poisoned my son," Edward said, his voice dropping into a register of cold, absolute death. "You introduced a deadly parasite into his body... and watched him bleed out in front of me for four days."
"I did what was necessary for the survival of this family!" Julian spat, backing up against the locked exit door. "You were soft, Edward! You always were! You loved your dead wife, and you loved her weak son, and you left me with the scraps!"
"You will rot in a high-security prison for the rest of your natural life," Edward whispered.
Julian reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a small, sleek silver pocket pistol.
"Open the door, Edward!" Julian shrieked, aiming the weapon directly at his brother's chest. "Open the door and let me walk out, or I swear to God I’ll put a bullet through your heart right here!"
Dr. Hale screamed, dropping to the floor behind the desk.
Edward didn't even flinch at the barrel of the gun. He stood tall, shielding Oliver’s bed with his own body, his gray eyes burning with pure hatred.
Before Julian could pull the trigger—
BANG!
The heavy double exit doors behind Julian were slammed inward with violent, crushing force!
The heavy oak door struck Julian from behind, throwing him forward onto his face! His silver pistol flew out of his hand, spinning across the floorboards before stopping at Claire’s feet.
Four heavy tactical officers from Scotland Yard’s Specialist Firearms Command flooded into the suite, their submachine guns raised, red laser sights painting Julian’s back!
"POLICE! DO NOT MOVE! GET ON THE GROUND!" the lead officer roared!
Julian groaned on the floor, his nose broken from the impact of the door, blood pooling across his white silk tie as two tactical officers slammed his arms behind his back, snapping heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists.
Chief Inspector Thomas Vance stepped into the suite, holding his police badge.
"Edward Ashford?" Vance asked, looking around the room. "We received a secondary emergency dispatch from a Miss Claire Bennett ten minutes ago regarding an illegal biological weapon possession and corporate assassination plot."
Edward looked down at his brother being dragged off the floor by two officers.
"Take him away, Inspector," Edward said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "And make sure the Crown Prosecution Service charges him with attempted high treason and attempted murder."
Julian glared at Claire as the officers dragged him out into the hallway, his face bloody, his eyes filled with insane, unyielding malice.
"You're a servant!" Julian screamed at her, his voice echoing down the corridor. "You scrub floors! You're nothing! YOU'RE NOTHING!"
Claire didn't answer. She quietly stepped forward, picked up the silver pocket pistol using a clean tissue, and handed it to Inspector Vance.
May you like
The doors swung shut.
The nightmare was finally over.
