Chapter 3 - THE ARMORED INTERVENTION
SCREECH!
The agonizing sound of heavy tires tearing across wet asphalt drowned out the thunder.
Three massive,
matte-black armored SUVs violently swerved onto the courthouse plaza.
They didn't slow down,
they didn't hesitate.
They jumped the curb with a thunderous thud,
sending spray of muddy water onto Richard’s pristine car.
With terrifying military precision,
they ruthlessly boxed in Richard’s Mercedes.
One SUV stood in front,
one behind,
and one slammed into the side,
pinning him against the concrete barrier.
Tactical security operatives,
dressed in shadows and gear,
swarmed out like a well-oiled machine.
They moved with a speed that was impossible to follow.
They violently yanked Richard's driver from the vehicle,
the man's cries for help cut short.
They pinned him face-down on the wet pavement,
his cheek pressed against the cold stone.
Richard was trapped inside his glass cage,
his face pressed against the window in pure,
unadulterated panic.
The rear door of the center command vehicle slowly swung open.
A hush fell over the plaza,
despite the raging storm.
A man stepped out into the rain,
but the rain didn't seem to touch him.
He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit,
the fabric dark and expensive.
In his hand,
he held a silver-tipped cane,
which he planted firmly on the ground.
It was Alexander Vance,
the notoriously elusive billionaire CEO of Vanguard Global.
A man whose name was whispered in boardrooms and government offices alike.
He completely ignored Richard's frantic,
trapped face.
He didn't spare a glance at the mistress,
who was now screaming behind the glass.
His icy blue eyes,
piercing and filled with an ancient,
agonizing weight,
locked entirely on me.
The world around us seemed to stop,
the rain freezing in mid-air.
I stood on the steps,
May you like
a broken woman,
staring at a king who had descended into the mud.
