Chapter 7: A Night in the Citadel
"Get out," Marcus said.
"Marcus—"
"Get out of my office before I have security drag you through the lobby in handcuffs," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave.
Victoria sneered, smoothed her white lapels, and gave the boys a dismissive glare. "You have fourteen hours, Marcus. Enjoy playing daddy while your empire burns."
She spun on her heels and exited, the board members trailing like obedient hounds.
The room fell dead silent.
Marcus turned around. Leo was shaking, fighting back tears of terror and rage, his jaw clenched tight. "She’s going to take us, isn't she? That's what the shelter workers said. They said nobody wants a nine-year-old with an angry mouth and a crippled brother."
Marcus walked over, sat on the coffee table directly across from them, and looked them both in the eyes.
"Listen to me, both of you," Marcus said firmly. "My name is Marcus Vance. Twelve years ago, your father stood between me and a wall of fire. He was the bravest man I have ever known. Because of him, I got to live. Because of him, I have all of this."
Marcus gestured around the vast, luxurious room.
"For twelve years, I was blind. But I swear on Arthur's memory: nobody is taking you to an orphanage. Nobody is putting you on the street. From this second forward, you are under my protection. You will never sleep cold, you will never go hungry, and you will never be invisible again."
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Toby wiped his nose with his sleeve and leaned his head against Marcus’s knee. Marcus placed a gentle, steady hand on the boy's shoulder, feeling the fragile, miraculous warmth of Arthur’s bloodline beating beneath his palm.
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