Page 50 of Deadly Legacy
The Quantize Guard founders were now on their feet, Mia attempting to edge toward the exit while Stephan and Drew remained frozen in shock.
“Charlotte,” Wallace said, his voice softening slightly, “you need to leave. Now. This isn’t a business meeting anymore.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Dmitrii said, his hand moving inside his jacket. “No one is.”
Across the room, Stepan tapped two fingers against his cufflink. The prearranged signal for imminent threat.
Reuben lunged forward, his hand closing around Charlotte’s wrist. He yanked her sideways, away from Dmitrii, as the door burst open.
Security personnel flooded into the room. Handguns appeared, the metallic sounds of their deployment cutting through the sudden shouts.
“Get down!” Reuben’s voice sliced through the chaos.
The Quantize Guard founders dropped, bodies hitting the floor with dull thuds.
Dmitrii’s hand emerged from inside his jacket. A sleek pistol glinted under the lights. He leveled it at Reuben’s chest.
“Fuck you, Reuben.” His finger tensed against the trigger.
Stepan’s gun cracked, the bullet striking Dmitrii’s hand. But Dmitrii’s finger had already squeezed the trigger. Wallace lunged forward, throwing himself between Dmitrii and Reuben. “Enough!”
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. Charlotte screamed as Wallace staggered, red blooming across his crisp white shirt. He collapsed against the conference table, knocking documents to the floor.
Stepan was already moving again, slamming Dmitrii’s wounded hand against the wall until the gun clattered to the floor. The sound of bone cracking mixed with Dmitrii’s guttural snarl of pain.
“Charlotte, come with me!” Reuben tugged at his mother’s arm. But she remained rooted to the spot, her body rigid, eyes expanding with horror.
The sound of breaking glass came from the conference room windows as Matvei security personnel rappelled into position. Reuben caught sight of Jacob and Anya herding the Quantize Guard founders toward a side door.
“This isn’t happening.” Charlotte’s voice emerged thin and breathless, her manicured hand flying to her throat. “Not to me.”
“Mom.” The quiet word drew her back. She blinked, focus returning to her eyes.
Two of Stepan’s security team moved in front of them, creating a shield from the chaos. Reuben took Charlotte’s arm, guiding her after them. Her high heels skidded on the polished floor, her face chalk-white.
“Wallace,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on her ex-husband’s crumpled form.
Reuben glanced back to see Stepan lifting Wallace with efficient care. “Stepan’s got him,” Reuben assured her.
In the hallway, Matvei security had created a corridor of protection. They followed the guards through it, the sounds of struggle fading behind them.
A black SUV waited at the curb, engine running. Reuben bundled Charlotte inside, then turned back toward the building.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was high, almost childlike in its panic.
“I need to make sure everyone got out safely.” Reuben glanced back toward the building where he’d last seen Stepan carrying Wallace.
“He shot Wallace,” Charlotte said, as if just processing this fact. “That man shot Wallace.”
Reuben nodded, hand already on the door handle. “I know. Just stay here. You’ll be safe.”
He found Stepan at the service entrance, Wallace now laid carefully on an improvised stretcher.
“How bad?” Reuben asked, falling into step beside them.
“Through-and-through. Left shoulder.” Stepan’s voice was clipped as they maneuvered toward the waiting van. “But he’ll live.”
“The founders?”
