Chapter 4: The First Stand**
Lily didn’t cry. She stepped closer to Julian’s wheelchair, placing both of her small hands against his knees. A tingling warmth, like sunlit honey, radiated deep into his fractured spine.
“Cowards,” Marcus growled, reaching for his sidearm.
A suppressed shot cracked through the air, piercing Marcus’s shoulder and sending him sprawling against the buffet table. The silver platter clattered loudly on the floor.
“Marcus!” Julian yelled.
The lead gunman leveled his weapon directly at Lily. “Give her up, Vance. She’s the only living biological heir to Clara Hughes’s patents. She doesn’t leave this room alive.”
A biological heir. Julian’s mind raced. Clara’s daughter was *his* daughter.
Adrenaline and raw parental instinct ignited Julian’s nervous system. The lingering numbness vanished under a torrent of fierce determination. He didn't care about medical logic or the six years of dead nerves.
With a primal roar that echoed against the high ceiling, Julian Vance planted his bare, wet feet onto the cold marble and stood up.
The gunmen froze in sheer disbelief. Victoria gasped, stumbling backward against a marble column.
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Julian lunged forward, using his heavy upper body momentum to grab the silver basin from the floor and smash it straight into the lead gunman’s jaw. The man collapsed instantly, his weapon skittering across the floor.
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