Chapter 490:

“The Ziegler family operates under a Royal Charter of Commerce,” the Minister declared, his voice devoid of empathy. “They possess Parliamentary Privilege regarding internal household matters. These arrests are void without a warrant from the High Council.”

Before the echo of his words had faded, the atmosphere in the room shifted from confusion to lethal precision. A dozen Royal Guards, previously standing at the perimeter, stepped forward in unison. They raised their automatic rifles, the barrels not pointed at the accused criminals, but leveled directly at Aurora Vance and Elias Thorne.

“Stand down,” the Captain of the Guard barked, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Hands where we can see them. Any sudden movement will be met with lethal force.”

Aurora froze. Her muscles coiled, ready to strike, but the red laser dot dancing on Elias’s chest forced her into a terrifying stillness. She could disable one, maybe two, but not twelve. Not without getting Elias killed.

The officer holding the key to the handcuffs hesitated. He looked at Elias, then at the Minister. Slowly, agonizingly, he turned the key.

Click.

The sound of the cuffs opening was louder than a gunshot.

“No!” Julian Kensington roared. The sound tore from his throat, raw and jagged.

He was still on the floor, his arms wrapped protectively around Seraphina. But as the handcuffs fell away, two burly Ziegler private security contractors lunged forward, emboldened by the Royal Guards’ cover. One kicked Julian hard in his bad leg, sending a jolt of paralyzing pain up his spine. The other grabbed Seraphina by her hair and the back of her dress, wrenching her violently from Julian’s grasp.

“Julian!” Her scream was a physical blow. Her fingers scrabbled desperately against the marble, her nails breaking as she was dragged backward.

“Let her go!” Julian scrambled up, ignoring the agony in his leg, his eyes locked on the hem of her dress as it slipped away. He threw a punch, a desperate, uncoordinated swing that connected with a guard’s jaw, but the guard didn’t even flinch. He simply shoved Julian back with the butt of a concealed baton.

Julian hit the floor hard. The breath left his lungs in a painful whoosh.

“Julian!” Aurora moved. She didn’t run—she blurred. But she didn’t move toward the guards. She threw herself over Julian’s prone body, shielding him as the Royal Guards adjusted their aim.

“Don’t move!” Aurora hissed into Julian’s ear, her hands clamping onto his shoulders like iron vises, pinning him to the cold marble. “They will shoot you. Look at the lasers, Julian. Look!”

Julian struggled, his face twisted, veins bulging in his neck as he watched Seraphina being hauled away like a sack of refuse. “They’re taking her! Aurora, kill them! Do something!”

“I can’t,” Aurora whispered, her voice tight, vibrating with a suppressed violence that terrified her more than the guns pointed at her head. “If I move, Elias dies. If you move, you die. We have to live to get her back.”

“This is foreign soil,” Elias said, standing perfectly still with his hands raised, his body shielding them from the line of fire. His voice was low, lethal, and perfectly calm. “If you pull that trigger, Captain, you start a war with the United States. Stand down.”

Julian stopped fighting. His body went limp, all the energy draining out of him as he watched the side door open.

Dowager Ziegler sat in her wheelchair, rubbing her wrists where the metal had pinched. She looked down at them with a sneer that curdled the blood.

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