Chapter 5 - Shattered Glass
The cartilage of Marcus’s nose shattered with a sickening crunch. He screamed in pain as the revolver discharged harmlessly, the bullet tearing a splintered trench through the mahogany ceiling and shattering the chandelier into raining crystals.
The recoil threw Marcus off balance, and I spun around, driving my elbow hard into his solar plexus. The breath exploded from his lungs, and he collapsed onto the rug, clutching his ruined face as blood poured between his fingers. The gun skittered across the floor, stopping near the edge of the desk.
Vanessa lunged for the weapon with a desperate shriek.
I caught her by the wrist, twisting it sharply until she cried out in agony. The revolver kicked away from her reach, sliding under the heavy oak bookcase.
"Let go of me, you savage!" she hissed, trying to claw at my eyes with her free hand.
I shoved her back against the bay window. The heavy glass rattled under the impact. "The party's over, Vanessa. The police are already on their way."
"The police won't touch me!" she laughed wildly, wiping a streak of Marcus's blood from her cheek. "Do you have any idea who holds the mortgage on this estate? Do you know who owns the private security firm guarding the gates right now? It's not you, Daniel. It never was. Since the day your father died, Marcus and I have been systematically liquidating your assets."
Before I could reply, the heavy doors of the study burst open. Evans rushed in, but he wasn't alone. Behind him were two uniformed guards from the front perimeter—men I had never seen before. Their uniforms were devoid of badges, and their weapons were unholstered.
"Mr. Blackwood, step away from the lady," Evans said. His voice was completely flat, devoid of the deference he had shown me mere minutes ago.
I froze, looking between Evans and the two armed men behind him.
"You too, Evans?" I whispered, an icy dread washing over me. "I paid for your mother's chemotherapy."
Evans had the decency to look at the floor for a fraction of a second, but his resolve hardened immediately. "Money talks, Mr. Blackwood. And Miss Vanessa paid off the remaining four hundred thousand on my family's debt this morning. Stand down."
Vanessa’s laughter rang out, sharp and triumphant. She stepped away from the window, brushing down her dress. "Tie him up," she ordered the guards. "Take Marcus to the private clinic in the east wing and get his nose set. And bring that wretched little girl down here. She's going to watch her father sign every single asset over to my shell company."
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"Where is Clara?" I demanded, fighting against the two guards who seized my arms and pinned them behind my back with heavy zip-ties.
Vanessa leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear, her voice dripping with poison. "Clara is going back where she belongs, Daniel. Only this time, I won't bother leaving the ventilation vents open."
