“Trust me,” Helen chuckled. “That can be arranged. By morning, you will be dead.”
“Since you plan to kill us, anyway, you might as well answer a few questions that have me puzzled,” Jules said, trying to stall. “Why kill Marshall Imerson?”
“I can answer that,” Harold Owens said. “He found out too much.”
“Enough talking,” Herbert said again. “We need to get going. I’ll handle the PI.”
Knowing he needed to stall even more and because he wanted Jules to know how he felt in case he didn’t make it, Dalton said, “Before we leave, I have something to say to Jules, since this might be my last chance.”
“Trust me, son,” Harold said, chuckling. “It will definitely be your last chance.”
“Then I have something to say to her.” He turned to Jules. “I love you. I thought I would have time to show you, to prove it to you and convince you of just how much I do, but if these clowns are really serious, I just wanted you to know how I felt.”
Jules stared into Dalton’s eyes. Even from a distance, she could feel anger and rage pouring from him, but she saw something else. At first she thought he was just stalling for time, but all it took was a look in his eyes to see he was dead serious. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Dalton.”
“How touching,” Herbert sneered. “Now, let’s go. Move it, Ms. Bradford.”
“Drop your guns. You’re under arrest.”
Shots rang out, the first coming from Herbert’s gun. Jules was thrown to the floor, and she was aware of Dalton’s body covering hers. Bruce had managed to pull out his gun and was protecting them both.
Jules glanced up and saw her entire office swarming with people. Marcel and his men were there, as well as Stonewall, Striker, Quasar, Roland and a few other men she didn’t know.
“Are the three of you okay?” Marcel asked, rushing over and helping them back to their feet.
“Yes, we’re fine,” Dalton said, pulling Jules into his arms. “I thought I had lost you.”
She shook her head, smiling. “And I thought I’d lost you. Did you mean what you said? Or just stalling for time?”
Dalton leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “I meant every word.”
“Good, because I love you, too. I love you so much, Dalton.”
A woman’s scream snatched their attention, and they glanced over to Helen Owens. “These handcuffs are too tight,” she hollered at the young federal agent who had cuffed her. “Don’t you know I’m old enough to be your grandmother?”
“Oh, now she wants respect,” Bruce said, shaking his head.
“And by the way,” Jules said to the three criminals. “Just in case you want to deny anything you said in here tonight, you’ve been recorded. Every single thing you said is on tape.”
“And just so you know,” Marcel added, “Homeland Security has taken over all your computer stores across the country and is searching them right now. They’ve already arrested some of your players, and I understand a lot of them are talking. So you and your network are being shut down, Mrs. Owens.”
She lifted her chin. “No matter. I am still the star.”
Marcel rolled his eyes. “Get her out of here.”
Taking Jules’s hand in his, Dalton approached Stonewall, Striker and Quasar, who were standing together, staring in fascination at Jules’s wall.
“I was hoping you had figured out what was going on, Stonewall.”
Stonewall nodded. “Didn’t take me long when I saw the older couple and remembered them from Shana’s dinner party. I couldn’t see any reason for them to be here, and I called Roland right away. I also called Striker and Quasar. I figured they were close by and could get here before Roland in case I needed backup.”
“Well, I appreciate you guys being here.”
At that moment, Jace, Caden and their wives rushed through the door. Shana grabbed her sister. “Are you okay? Striker called and told us what was going down. We were so scared.”
“I’m fine,” she said and then glanced up at Dalton. “The man I love was with me the entire time.”