Chapter 10 - The Family Reunion
Jax stood frozen in the doorway, the reality of the scene washing over him with sickening clarity. There was no police betrayal, no deep-seated blackmail that Eleanor hadn't willingly participated in from the very beginning. Her arrest at the mansion had been a meticulously rehearsed theatrical performance designed to buy time, deflect suspicion, and lead Jax straight into their trap.
“Surprised to see me, dear nephew?” David Vance asked, turning his head slowly toward the doorway. A thin, cold smile touched his lips. “I figured the police precinct would hold you for at least another hour, but Katherine was always far too impatient.”
Katherine stepped up beside Jax in the doorway, exhaling a slow plume of smoke. She didn't look surprised in the least. In fact, she calmly reached into her coat and pulled out a sleek, modern key fob, tossing it lazily toward David, who caught it out of the air with one hand.
“The transfer codes for the primary offshore accounts are loaded onto this drive,” Katherine said coolly. “Just like we agreed, David. My cut, wired directly to the Zurich account before dawn.”
Jax turned his dark eyes toward Katherine, the ink on his tattooed hands bunching into tight fists. “You sold us out from the very beginning. You gave Lily those words to say at the dinner table.”
“Of course I did,” Katherine said without an ounce of remorse. “Someone had to spark the fuse. If you hadn't confronted Eleanor, she never would have brought out the decanter, and David’s return would have lacked the necessary dramatic flair.”
Eleanor walked over to Marcus, looking down at him with utter disdain before turning her gaze to her son. “You never understood how this family survived, Jax. You spent years playing the moral crusader, thinking honest logistics could maintain this empire. Your father tried the same foolish approach, and look where it got him.”
“You murdered him,” Jax said, his voice terrifyingly quiet as he stepped past the threshold into the warehouse, closing the distance between them. “You and David killed my father at that exact dining table twelve years ago, and you tried to do the exact same thing to me tonight.”
“We didn't kill your father, Jax,” David corrected smoothly, walking over to a nearby workbench and picking up a heavy ledger bound in cracked leather. “He chose his own fate when he threatened to expose our operations to the federal maritime commission. We simply accelerated a retirement he was already begging for.”
Marcus struggled against the ropes binding his chair, his eyes wide with terror as he looked at David. “You said you’d let me go once we secured the codes! You promised!”
“Promises are for people who intend to survive tomorrow, Marcus,” David said casually. Without breaking eye contact with Jax, David raised a suppressed pistol from the workbench and fired a single, muffled shot.
May you like
Marcus slumped forward in the chair, lifeless.
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