Chapter 8 - The Confrontation in the Storm
Evelyn stared blankly at Harrison in absolute, speechless astonishment.
"You... you had already saved him before he even placed the call?" she stammered out softly.
"Of course," Harrison replied with absolute, cold composure.
"I remain at least three steps ahead of a bottom-feeder like Julian at all times."
"And now, you and I are going to pay Julian a personal visit at his little harbor trap."
Half an hour later, torrential rain violently battered the rusted metal walls of the abandoned harbor warehouse.
Julian paced back and forth near a row of decayed shipping containers like a caged, rabid animal.
He tightly gripped a heavy steel pipe, nervously checking his glowing watch every few seconds.
The massive, rusted warehouse entrance doors suddenly creaked open with a horrifying screech of metal.
A single tall, imposing silhouette deliberately stepped into the gloomy, dim yellow light of the interior.
Julian’s face instantly twisted into a malicious, arrogant grin.
"I knew your pathetic weak heart would force you to come running back, Evelyn!" Julian bellowed loudly into the cavernous space.
"Did you bring the signed property transfer and asset release papers like I ordered you to?!"
The tall silhouette steadily walked closer into the flickering light of the overhead lamps.
It was not Evelyn.
It was Harrison Vance, walking with terrifying grace while leaning lightly on his silver-topped cane.
Julian’s arrogant grin vanished in an instant, his face draining of all color.
"You..." Julian gasped out, stumbling backward in sudden, sheer panic.
"Where the hell is Evelyn?!"
"She is in a completely secure location," Harrison stated, his voice ringing with absolute fatality.
"A place where a worthless insect like you will never touch her again."
"I explicitly told her to come completely alone!" Julian shrieked insanely, wildly swinging the heavy steel pipe in the air.
"Because you showed up here, your precious helpless little nephew dies right this second!"
Harrison slowly extracted his encrypted phone from his vest pocket and calmly activated the high-volume speakerphone.
"Leo, please say a pleasant good evening to Julian," Harrison requested softly into the receiver.
"Good evening, Julian," Leo's crystal-clear, healthy voice reverberated strongly through the small speaker.
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"The state-of-the-art climate control in Mr. Vance's private hospital suite is remarkably comfortable."
Julian’s eyes dilated in pure, paralyzing terror as the steel pipe slipped from his numb fingers.
