Chapter 10 - The Torn Tuxedo
Richard stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his immaculate black tuxedo ruined by mud and grass stains from his desperate scramble across the stone ledge. His short brown hair was disheveled, and his eyes darted frantically between Marcus, Clara, and Elena. In his left hand, he gripped the heavy brass paperweight like a weapon, while his right hand remained shoved deep inside his coat pocket.
“Don’t you dare move another inch, Elena,” Richard growled, his voice trembling with a dangerous mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline. “Step away from the desk, Marcus. You’ve played your little game long enough.”
Marcus didn’t step away from the desk. Instead, he leaned casually against the mahogany surface, crossing his arms over his damp trench coat.
“You’re a bit late to your own party, Richard,” Marcus replied, his tone laced with amusement. “The front gates are down, the federal investigators are walking up the gravel drive, and your wife has already read the ledger regarding the trust fund embezzlement.”
Richard’s face contorted with rage. He lunged forward, but Marcus was faster. With a fluid motion, Marcus flipped the silver tray upside down, sending the domed cover clattering across the floor and revealing not wires or lights, but a small, old-fashioned audio cassette recorder with its play button jammed down.
The tinny sound of a recorded conversation began to play out into the silent hallway:
“If the board finds out the boy isn’t a legal heir, the merger falls apart, Richard. Get rid of the nurse, and make sure the adoption files stay buried in the vault.”
Clara gasped, pressing her hands against her mouth as she recognized her own voice echoing from the small machine.
“That... that was from the night of the board meeting seven years ago,” Clara whispered, staring at her husband in absolute horror. “You recorded our private conversation just to use as leverage against me?”
Richard stopped dead in his tracks, the paperweight slipping from his fingers to thud heavily against the Persian rug. He looked at Clara, then at Julian, who was trembling in Elena’s arms.
“I did what I had to do to protect this family, Clara!” Richard shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “You have no idea what kind of sharks are waiting outside to strip everything we own down to the bones!”
Elena didn’t wait for them to finish their argument. Shielding Julian’s face against her black maid uniform, she slipped past Richard’s frozen form in the doorway and bolted down the dim corridor toward the grand staircase.
“Elena, stop!” Richard screamed, spinning around to chase after them.
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Before Richard could take two steps toward the door, Marcus stepped out from the desk and swept his leg out in a clean, swift motion, sending Richard crashing hard against the heavy oak bookshelf. Books rained down in an avalanche around him as heavy footsteps echoed loudly from the grand staircase below.
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