Chapter 15 - An Heir’s Vengeance
Before the prongs could fire, a shadow materialized behind Clara through the drifting black smoke of the burning depot.
Marcus was bleeding from three separate gunshot wounds—one in the thigh, one across his ribs, and another grazing his collarbone. His clothing was shredded, his face covered in soot and blood, but his eyes burned with an unstoppable, terrifying light.
He didn't fire a gun. He grabbed Clara by the throat from behind with one hand, his fingers sinking into her windpipe like a vice, lifting her off her feet. Clara choked, dropping the taser, her hands clawing desperately at his iron wrists.
"You took care of her for two years," Marcus whispered into Clara’s ear, his voice freezing the blood in her veins. "And you didn't learn a single thing about what I would do to protect her."
With a brutal twist, Marcus hurled Clara over the safety railing into the churning, propeller-whipped water between the yacht's hull and the concrete pier. Her body vanished into the black, foamy current without a trace.
Marcus collapsed to his knees, clutching his side, his breath rattling wetly in his chest. Lily ran to him, falling into his lap, wrapping her small arms around his trembling shoulders. "Daddy! You're hurt, you're bleeding so much!"
"I'm alright, baby... I'm alright," Marcus wheezed, managing a faint, bloody smile as he reached up to touch her cheek. "We made it. The yacht... the crew fled when the depot blew. We take the boat."
Together, Lily helping to support his weight, they staggered up the gangway of the idling luxury yacht. Marcus slumped into the captain's chair, his trembling fingers engaging the electronic throttle. The heavy vessel surged away from the burning pier, cutting through the harbor waves toward the safety of international waters.
Lily stood beside him at the helm, the USB drive cold against her chest, watching the burning skyline of her hometown fade into the morning mist.
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Suddenly, the bridge's encrypted maritime radio crackled to life with Arthur’s voice, cold and terrifyingly calm: "Did you really think the yacht was empty, Marcus? Turn around."
Behind them, the cabin door slowly clicked open.
