Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 245

Chapter 245 I Pulled My Hidden Gun

I looked back at the screen. Tristan approached the massive vault door. He pulled a small, sleek titanium device from his jacket pocket. The decryption tool

Ricardo built. Tristan slapped the device over the retinal scanner next to the door. He connected a wing to the digital keypad.

The small screen on the device lit up. Numbers cycled in a blur.

“He possesses a brute-force decryption rig,” the broker realized. Panic edged into his voice. The calm facade cracked. The master ledger sat inside that vault. If Tristan secured the drive, the broker lost his leverage with Federal Prosecutor Sterling. He lost his payday.

“Your trap failed,” I said. I stepped away from the door. I moved toward the center of the room, drawing his focus away from the monitor. “My husband will breach the vault in three minutes. He will copy the ledger. We will destroy your federal buyer.”

The broker snapped his attention back to me.

“I hold the gun,” he snarled. He closed the distance between us. “He cannot save you if you are dead.”

*Shoot me, and you lose everything,” I countered. I played a dangerous game of chess. I needed to keep him talking. I needed to buy Tristan those three minutes. “Sterling cannot protect you. Sterling is a dead man walking. The moment we release the ledger, the European elites will hunt the man who held

their secrets. They will hunt you.”

“I will be gone,” the broker said.

“You need funds to disappear,” I stated. I kept my voice steady, projecting unshakeable authority. “Sterling froze my accounts, but he missed the ghost trusts. I hold twenty million euros in an untraceable Cyprus account. Lower the weapon. Give me the ledger. I will transfer the funds right now. You walk away rich.

You walk away alive.”

The broker paused. Greed warred with his loyalty to the federal prosecutor. He evaluated the offer. Twenty million euros offered a secure retirement in a country without an extradition treaty.

He looked at the monitor. Tristan stood at the vault door. The decryption device displayed a green progress bar. Fifty percent complete. The steel barrier refused to yield, but the digital lock weakened.

“You lie, the broker decided. He shook his head. “Sterling drained your resources. You possess nothing but a stolen dress.”

He raised the suppressed pistol. He took aim at my chest.

“Strip,” he commanded. A cruel light returned to his eyes. He wanted to humiliate me before he pulled the trigger. Strip the dress. Drop the weapon I know

you carry. If you reach for it, I put a bullet in your stomach. You bleed out on my floor.”

I brought the gun up. I racked the slide. The metallic clack echoed in the soundproof room.

The heavy oak door of the office exploded inward.

Wood splintered. The brass lock shattered. The door crashed against the wall with a deafening boom.

The broker spun toward the noise. He lost his focus on my chest.

A massive figure stood in the ruined doorway. Rain dripped from his dark hair. Blood soaked the torn sleeve of his tuxedo jacket. His gray eyes burned with a lethal, unyielding fire. He held a stolen combat knife in his right hand.

Tristan.

He did not wait at the vault. He abandoned the decryption device. He came for me.

The broker raised his gun toward Tristan.

I squeezed the trigger.