Chapter 4
Julian sprinted back down the hallway, his face stark white, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He skidded to a halt near the overturned wheelchair where Clara still lay motionless, her cream dress stained with dark fluid.
"The car," Julian panted, his chest heaving as he stared at Sarah and his mother. "The brake lines on my sedan have been completely severed. Fluid is pooling everywhere on the driveway."
Elena’s eyes narrowed, though she maintained her rigid posture. "A mechanical failure, no doubt. The vehicle is five years old, Julian. You've neglected proper maintenance in pursuit of your corporate ambitions."
"Nonsense!" Julian shouted, a rare loss of composure that made even Elena step back. "I had the vehicle serviced yesterday afternoon! The lines didn't just snap; they were cleanly cut with a heavy industrial tool!"
Sarah looked up from Clara, her voice trembling. "Mr. Vance, your mother’s security team has exclusive access to the garage keys. No one else enters that sector of the estate."
"Shut your mouth, girl," Elena commanded, stepping forward with a raised hand, though Julian instantly intercepted her wrist, his grip iron-clad and unforgiving.
"Enough, Mother," Julian growled, his voice deep and vibrating with a fury Sarah had never witnessed in the executive. "Clara is dying on the floor, our phones are dead, my car is sabotaged, and you are standing there lecturing about maintenance. What did you give her to drink?"
Elena yanked her wrist free, rubbing her skin with a look of supreme disdain. "I gave her a restorative tonic. Her blood pressure was crashing from hysteria. If she dies, it is because her constitution was weak from the start—just like her father's before her."
"Her father died of a standard heart attack," Julian said, his eyes narrowing as an ugly suspicion began to form in the back of his mind. "Or at least, that's what the death certificate stated. You managed his estate too, didn't you?"
"I manage the survival of this family," Elena shot back, her voice dropping into a dangerous hum. "While you were busy playing the devoted husband to an outsider who only wanted our assets, I was protecting everything your grandfather built."
Julian didn't answer. He knelt back down beside Clara, slipping his arms carefully beneath her shoulders and legs. He lifted her light frame with agonizing care, trying not to jostle her head.
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"Sarah, grab the briefcase with the forensic audit files," Julian ordered, his eyes fixed on his unconscious wife’s pale face. "We are walking down the mile-long driveway to the main gate. If the intercom is dead, we break the lock."
"You won't make it past the south ridge," Elena called out coldly as Julian turned toward the heavy oak doors. "The estate gates lock automatically when emergency protocols are triggered."
