The first alarm came from the north financial district.
Then the ports.
Then two data centers.
Then three corporate towers carrying the Walker name.
By the time Veronica lowered the phone, every screen in the Palazzo Exchange lobby flashed red.
Emergency breaches. Fire alerts. Network sabotage. Structural lockdowns.
Adrian had chosen destruction.
Anna looked at Oliver.
"Please tell me this is exaggerated."
"It isn't."
He was already moving.
"Get everyone out of this building," he ordered security. "Shut all elevators. Stairs only. No one re-enters once cleared."
Executives scattered like frightened birds.
Reporters shouted questions no one answered.
Veronica jogged beside them.
"Your uncle is exhausting."
"He's finished," Oliver said coldly.
"Apparently not emotionally."
In the armored car racing toward central Milan, six screens surrounded them.
Live feeds.
Smoke from the north tower.
Port cranes frozen mid-operation.
Servers offline.
Markets reacting in real time.
Anna scanned one dashboard.
"These attacks are synchronized."
"Yes."
"Insider access?"
"Yes."
"You say yes too often."
"I choose accurate habits."
She pointed to one blinking alert.
"Why is the south residential tower included? Families live there."
Oliver's expression hardened further.
"He wants panic, not profit."
That changed everything.
This was no longer greed.
It was vengeance.
The first stop was the Walker North Tower.
Thousands already evacuated into the rain-soaked streets.
Fire crews worked upper floors.
Oliver stepped from the car and command shifted instantly around him.
Chiefs approached.
Police deferred.
Private teams repositioned.
Even public officials lowered their voices.
Anna watched it happen.
Raw authority.
No title needed.
A firefighter briefed quickly.
"Explosives in maintenance levels. Fire suppression disabled manually. We've contained floors forty through forty-six."
Oliver pointed upward.
"Data vault?"
"Floor forty-eight."
He looked at Anna.
"Stay here."
"No."
"It may collapse."
"Then walk faster."
He didn't waste time arguing.
Good.
They took the service stairwell with two security officers.
Smoke thickened by floor thirty.
Heat rose.
Oliver moved like the building belonged to him—which technically it did.
At forty-two, they found a maintenance team trapped behind warped doors.
Anna helped pry them free.
At forty-five, another blast shook the structure.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
One guard swore.
Oliver didn't slow.
At forty-eight, the vault corridor was blocked by burning debris.
Anna coughed.
"What's in there?"
"Every record proving Adrian's fraud."
"Of course."
He shoved debris aside with brutal efficiency.
Together they forced entry.
Inside: intact servers, backup drives, legal archives.
And one timed incendiary device.
02:14
Anna stared.
"Can you disarm bombs?"
"No."
"Useful honesty."
He grabbed two drives and handed them to her.
"Take these and go."
"No."
"Anna."
"Oliver."
The timer ticked lower.
He looked around once, calculated everything, then ripped the suppression pipe from the wall. Water blasted across the device housing.
Sparks snapped.
The timer glitched.
01:52 … ERROR
Anna blinked.
"That was reckless."
"It was plumbing."
He seized her hand.
"Move."
They made it down eleven floors before another blast tore through upper levels.
The stairwell shook violently.
Anna lost footing.
Oliver caught her against the rail before she hit concrete.
He braced them both as debris crashed past.
For one suspended second, smoke, noise, and gravity disappeared.
Only his arm around her.
Only her breath against his throat.
Then the building steadied.
He looked down at her.
"You all right?"
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"So are you."
Blood ran from a cut at his temple.
He barely noticed.
Outside, rain hit like relief.
The tower still stood.
Crowds cheered as trapped workers emerged behind them.
Cameras caught Oliver helping carry an injured technician to medics.
Anna saw people staring.
Not at wealth.
At leadership.
At the man who ran toward collapse.
Veronica appeared under an umbrella she had absolutely stolen.
"Good news and bad news."
"No," Anna said immediately.
"Rude," Veronica replied. "Good news: Adrian's accounts are being seized everywhere."
Oliver wiped blood from his brow.
"Bad news."
She handed him another phone.
"He's taken your father."
Silence.
Again.
A video played.
Adrian standing inside an old industrial chapel, Oliver's father tied to a chair beside him.
Candles. Stone walls. Dramatic nonsense.
Adrian smiled into camera.
"One final lesson, nephew."
He held up a detonator.
"At midnight, this city loses the foundation your father built… starting with him."
The feed cut.
Coordinates appeared.
An abandoned cathedral on the edge of Milan.
Anna exhaled slowly.
"He really cannot resist a finale."
Oliver's eyes became ice.
"No."
He looked at the coordinates once.
"This time, I end him myself."