Chapter 6 - The Visitor in the Trench Coat
Daniel didn't flinch. He kept his hands relaxed at his sides, though every muscle in his tall frame was coiled like a steel spring. He recognized the voice instantly, even though he hadn't heard it in over a decade—the clipped, aristocratic cadence of a man who sat on three different corporate boards and owned half the private security contractors in the tristate area. It was Marcus Vance, Victoria’s cousin and the shadowy fixer who managed the family’s dirtiest transactions behind a wall of corporate shell companies.
"You're trespassing, Marcus," Daniel said, his voice cutting through the chill of the open doorway like a scalpel. "And you're holding a weapon in a private residence. That’s a felony even for someone with your immunity."
Marcus stepped across the threshold, his heavy shoes leaving a trail of wet mud across the immaculate Italian marble that Lily had dirtied earlier that evening. He didn't bother taking off his coat or his hat. He closed the heavy oak door behind him with a slow, deliberate thud that sounded like a coffin lid sealing shut.
"Immunity is a construct of paperwork, Daniel, and as you've just discovered tonight, paperwork can be rewritten," Marcus replied smoothly. He slipped the silenced pistol back into the holster beneath his trench coat, his hands remaining visible as he walked toward the center of the grand hall. "Victoria called me from the east wing. She seems to think you're having a nostalgic relapse regarding a ghost from ten years ago."
"Sarah isn't a ghost," Daniel said, his eyes narrowing as he tracked Marcus's every movement. "She left a paper trail, Marcus. And a micro-SD card. You and Victoria staged that hospital fire to cover up the fact that you stole my child and sold off the estate assets to fund your offshore accounts."
Marcus stopped walking. A faint, humorless smile touched the corners of his mouth, though his eyes remained as cold and dead as winter ice. "You always were too smart for your own good, Daniel. That’s why we needed you distracted. A grieving billionaire wrapped around Victoria’s finger is a very compliant business partner. A vengeful father digging through decade-old medical ledgers? That’s a liability we cannot afford to keep on the balance sheet."
"Where is Sarah?" Daniel demanded, stepping forward.
"Dead, alive, does it really matter?" Marcus shrugged casually, adjusting his cuffs. "The only thing that matters right now is the contents of that handbag the brat brought inside. Hand over the envelope, Daniel, and the pocket watch, and we can pretend this entire conversation never happened. Victoria stays in the east wing, you keep your CEO title, and little Lily goes to a very nice, very quiet boarding school in the Swiss Alps where nobody will ever hear her speak English again."
Daniel reached slowly into the inner pocket of his black suit vest. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the pocket watch and the plastic edge of the micro-SD card. He pulled his hand out, keeping his fist tightly closed as he looked straight into Marcus's calculating eyes.
"I think," Daniel whispered, "you underestimate how much I despise being lied to."
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Before Marcus could react, Daniel threw a heavy silver candlestick off the side table straight at the wall sconce above the intruder's head, plunging the grand hallway into sudden, pitch-black darkness.
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