Chapter 8: The Fall of the Patriarch**
"Have you lost your mind?" Julian hissed, though he slowly released his grip on Leo’s sweater. The boy immediately bolted across the floor and threw his arms around Elena, burying his face in her bloodied neck.
"I lost my mind the day I helped you lock your mother in a crate," Marcus replied, stepping into the center of the parlor, the gun never wavering. "Your father was a ruthless man, Julian. But he was a man. You're just a coward who preys on women and children."
"I pay you!" Julian roared, stepping toward Marcus, his chest heaving. "Everything you own—your house, your pension, your sister’s medical bills—comes from my accounts!"
"Then let it burn," Marcus said.
A sudden rumble shook the front porch. The heavy oak doors swung wide, and Clara Vance stepped into the hall, soaked to the bone, leaning heavily on a wooden walking stick she had taken from the coat rack.
Julian’s face went completely pale. "Mother..."
"You always underestimated the women in this family, Julian," Clara said, her voice ringing clear and authoritative through the high ceilings. "You thought power was something you could steal in the dark. But real power is knowing who will stand beside you when the lights go out."
May you like
Outside, the distant wail of sirens began to pierce the sound of the rain.
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