Chapter 8 - The Fall of Julian
Clara didn’t hesitate. Fear had paralyzed her for months, but seeing her mother’s airway crushed under Julian’s hands snapped something ancient inside her. She flew down the polished stairs, throwing her entire body weight behind the marble block.
The stone struck Julian between his shoulder blades. The force knocked him forward, his hands slipping from Eleanor’s throat as he stumbled down the remaining steps, landing hard on the cold tile of the foyer.
Eleanor dropped to her knees, gasping for air, her throat burning. “Clara… run!”
Julian rolled over, his nose broken, his manicured hair disheveled and slick with blood. His eyes locked onto Clara with feral hatred. “You ungrateful whore! You think you can ruin me? Everything I built belongs to my name!”
He scrambled to his feet, reaching into his pocket for a switchblade. The silver blade clicked into place with a sharp snap. He stepped toward Clara, cornering her against the staircase railing. Marcus was already groaning on the floor behind them, beginning to push himself back up.
Clara backed away, her hands cradling her belly, completely defenseless. Julian raised the blade, his arm cocked to strike.
A deafening blast shattered the hallway.
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Julian stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes bulging as a blossom of dark red expanded across the center of his chest.
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