Chapter 17 - The Forensic Guillotine
“Silas is lying,” Olga said calmly, straightening her posture. She looked directly at Julian. “Bring up the metadata from the files Silas just showed you. Look at the IP routing.”
Silas scoffed, taking a step forward. “Don't listen to her, Father. She’s just trying to—”
“Do it, Julian,” Elias commanded, his voice dangerous.
Julian pulled a sleek laptop from his briefcase and typed rapidly. The room was suffocatingly quiet. After a few seconds, Julian’s brow furrowed. He looked up, his pale eyes fixing on Silas with lethal intent.
“Sir,” Julian said quietly. “The embezzlement files were indeed on Olga’s terminal. But the creation timestamp shows they were coded three hours ago... from Silas’s personal IP address in the west wing. They were planted.”
Silas went completely pale. “That’s impossible! She spoofed my IP!”
“I didn't stop there,” Olga said, walking toward Silas like a predator circling wounded prey. “While you were busy planting fake files on my server to frame me, you left your own backdoor open. I ran an audit on your personal accounts, Silas.”
She turned to Elias. “He isn't just in debt, Elias. He’s been selling your Mediterranean shipping routes to the Volkov Cartel for pennies on the dollar to cover his gambling losses in Macau. He wanted me dead today so you wouldn't find out he’s been bleeding you dry for two years.”
“Lies!” Silas screamed, reaching for the pistol tucked into his waistband.
Before Silas could clear the holster, Julian moved with terrifying speed. The silver cane cracked brutally against Silas’s wrist, shattering the bone. Silas screamed in agony, dropping the gun and collapsing to his knees.
Elias stared down at his legitimate son. The disappointment in the billionaire’s eyes was absolute. To Elias, theft was a crime, but incompetence was a death sentence.
“You sold my routes to the Russians,” Elias said, his voice barely a whisper, yet it filled the massive room with dread.
“Father, please!” Silas sobbed, clutching his shattered wrist. “She’s manipulating the data! She’s the enemy!”
“Take him to the basement,” Elias ordered Julian, turning his back on his son. “Make it slow.”
The guards dragged a screaming, pleading Silas out of the room. The heavy oak doors slammed shut, plunging the study back into a chilling silence.
Elias walked over to a crystal decanter and poured two glasses of scotch. He turned, holding one out to Olga.
“You survived the test,” Elias said, a dark, approving smile crossing his face. “You are truly Elena’s daughter. Ruthless. Brilliant.”
Olga took the glass, her expression unreadable. “When do I sign the papers?”
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“Tomorrow,” Elias said, clinking his glass against hers. “Tomorrow is your 29th birthday. We are throwing a gala. The heads of the five families are flying in. At midnight, you will sign the trust, and you will officially take your place at my right hand.”
👉 As Olga sipped the burning liquor, she knew she had successfully cleared the board of her only rival, leaving her completely alone to trigger the bomb that would destroy them all.
