Chapter 8: The Rooftop Ultimatum

The distorted voice echoed through the basement one final time before the speakers went silent.

"Come to the rooftop. Alone."

The countdown on the explosive device continued relentlessly.

08:43...

08:42...

Dennis grabbed Theresa's arm.

"You're not going."

"It's obviously a trap."

"Of course it is," Theresa replied calmly.

"But whoever planned this believes I'm the only obstacle left."

"If I don't go, they may trigger the explosives anyway."

Detective Mason shook his head.

"No one is sacrificing themselves today."

"We'll find another way."

Amelia was already working furiously on her laptop.

"I'm trying to bypass the communication jammer."

"If I can restore even one signal, we can contact the bomb squad."

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Minutes... maybe."

The timer displayed:

08:05...

Theresa looked around the room.

Every employee who had followed them into the basement stared at her with frightened eyes.

They trusted her.

She wasn't about to let innocent people die because someone wanted revenge.

"Dennis," she said softly.

"Take everyone upstairs."

"No."

"That's not a request."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You won't."

"You'll be protecting everyone else."

Dennis clenched his fists.

He hated knowing she was right.

Finally, he nodded reluctantly.

"Come back alive."

Theresa smiled faintly.

"I always do."

She entered the emergency stairwell alone.

Meanwhile...

Unknown to everyone inside the building, a black surveillance van sat parked across the street.

Inside, several computer monitors displayed live feeds from every floor of White Capital.

A man wearing expensive leather gloves watched Theresa climb the stairs.

"She's exactly where we expected," one technician reported.

"Excellent," the man replied.

"Phase Two begins now."

Back inside the building...

Theresa finally reached the rooftop access door.

It was unlocked.

She slowly stepped outside.

Cold wind swept across the rooftop.

The city skyline stretched endlessly around her.

"I'm here," she called.

"Show yourself."

A slow clap echoed behind her.

"Impressive."

"Most people would've run."

A tall figure stepped from behind the rooftop machinery.

He wore the same black suit seen in the surveillance recording, but this time his face wasn't hidden.

Theresa recognized him instantly.

"Victor Lang."

He smiled.

"I'm pleased you remember me."

Victor had once served on White Capital's Board of Directors before resigning nearly three years earlier after losing a major vote to Theresa.

Publicly, he claimed he wanted retirement.

Privately...

He had threatened revenge.

"You're behind all this," Theresa said.

"Jessica."

"Harold."

"The fake billing scheme."

"The explosions."

"Very observant."

Victor casually adjusted his cufflinks.

"Though I only created the opportunity."

"Greedy people handled the rest themselves."

"Twenty-seven million dollars wasn't enough?"

"It was never about money."

"Then what?"

"Control."

"White Capital should've been mine years ago."

"Instead..."

"The board chose you."

"A woman half my age."

"My ego never recovered."

Theresa remained silent.

Victor continued walking slowly toward her.

"You built an empire."

"Employees adore you."

"Investors trust you."

"Every newspaper calls you one of the country's most respected business leaders."

"Do you know what they call me?"

"Forgotten."

"So you destroyed your own company?"

"No."

"I weakened it."

"There's a difference."

"Once your reputation collapsed..."

"Investors would've forced you out."

"Then I'd return as the company's savior."

Theresa almost laughed.

"That was your brilliant master plan?"

"It would've worked too..."

"If Jessica hadn't been foolish enough to assault the wrong customer."

Victor's smile disappeared.

"She was disposable."

"Harold too."

"Everyone is disposable."

"Except you," Theresa replied.

"You still need someone to blame."

"Exactly."

Victor slowly removed a small remote control from his pocket.

"When investigators find your fingerprints on the explosive device downstairs..."

"When they discover you've secretly transferred millions overseas..."

"When every piece of evidence points to you..."

"White Capital dies with your reputation."

"And you become the perfect criminal."

Theresa stared at the remote.

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

He pressed one button.

Far below them, another explosion echoed through the building.

Windows shook violently.

Smoke rose from the lower floors.

"That was only the first charge," Victor said calmly.

"The main explosives are still armed."

"You're insane."

"No."

"I'm patient."

Without warning, Theresa's phone vibrated.

A message from Amelia flashed across the screen.

"Signal restored."

"Bomb squad arriving in six minutes."

Victor noticed her glance downward.

"Waiting for help?"

"It won't arrive in time."

He lifted the remote again.

"Goodbye, Chairwoman."

Before he could press the button...

A gunshot echoed across the rooftop.

The remote flew from Victor's hand.

He cried out in pain.

Detective Mason emerged from the rooftop stairwell with two tactical officers behind him.

"Police! Don't move!"

Victor looked stunned.

"Impossible..."

"The building was sealed."

"Not anymore," Mason replied.

"Your jammer stopped working the moment Amelia hacked your system."

Victor suddenly smiled.

"You still lose."

"Look behind you."

Theresa turned instinctively.

Another masked man had quietly stepped onto the rooftop.

He held a pistol aimed directly at Dennis.

Dennis had secretly followed Theresa despite her orders.

"Drop your weapons," the masked man ordered.

"Or your brother dies first."