Chapter 7 - Ashes to Assets
The flame caught the dry paper instantly, spreading across the cream-colored parchment with a soft, hungry hiss. Within seconds, a wall of bright orange fire illuminated the cavernous warehouse, casting long, grotesque shadows against the rusting steel walls.
Julian’s muffled shrieks reached a pitch of sheer terror as the heat from the blaze radiated toward his wooden chair. The ropes binding him were thick nylon, highly flammable if exposed to direct sparks, and the fire was spreading much faster than anticipated.
"Clara! The ropes!" Victoria screamed, abandoning all pretense of composure as she dropped her bag, letting the revolver clatter uselessly against the concrete floor. She rushed forward, desperate to reach her husband despite her hatred for him.
The two heavy-set men stepped forward, their massive arms crossing to block her path like a pair of iron gates.
"Let me through!" Victoria yelled, hammering her fists against the chest of the man with the scarred cheek. He didn't even flinch, standing like an immovable monolith of muscle and bad intentions.
Clara watched the scene with terrifying detachment. She stood a few feet away from the blazing pile of documents, her dark hair catching the amber glow of the fire.
"Don't worry, Victoria," Clara said calmly. "He won't burn. Not yet. We need him alive to sign the final transfer of the real estate holdings over to the Pendelton Foundation. But every second you waste fighting my associates is another second he spends breathing in toxic smoke."
Victoria stopped struggling, her chest heaving as she stared at Clara with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You're a monster," Victoria hissed.
"I am a reflection," Clara replied smoothly. "I learned from the best."
She turned to the man with the scar. "Get him out of the chair and into the van. We’re moving to the secondary location before the local fire department traces the smoke."
The scarred man grabbed Julian by the collar of his custom tuxedo, pulling a heavy hunting knife from his belt and slashing through the nylon ropes in a single fluid motion. Julian collapsed onto the concrete floor, coughing violently, gasping for air as he clutched his throat, utterly broken and defeated. The other man hauled him to his feet by his arms, dragging his dead weight toward a side exit where a black utility van waited with its engine idling.
Victoria lunged forward to follow, but Clara stepped directly into her path, her dark eyes locking onto Victoria’s with an intensity that stopped the bride in her tracks.
"You stay here, Victoria," Clara whispered. "Your invitation to the main event hasn't arrived yet."
May you like
Before Victoria could reply, Clara spun around and walked briskly toward the exit, disappearing into the rainy night behind her associates. The heavy side door slammed shut with a resounding metal crash, leaving Victoria alone in the burning warehouse with the roaring fire and a single, ringing phone left behind on an empty wooden crate.
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