Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Library
By 11:00 PM, a dense ocean fog had completely enveloped the estate, cutting off all visibility beyond ten feet.
Inside the mansion, the air felt heavy, pregnant with impending violence. Jasper sat in the library, a glass of bourbon resting on the side table, watching the clock tick toward midnight.
The double doors opened, and Conrad Vance walked in. He was wearing a silk smoking jacket, holding a glass of cognac in one hand and a cigar in the other.
"Still awake, Jasper?" Conrad asked smoothly, strolling over to the fireplace. "You look tired. You should get some rest. The funeral service for your father and brother is scheduled for Thursday, you know. We're placing a memorial plaque at the family crypt."
"A plaque?" Jasper raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink. "No caskets?"
"The ocean is a cruel cemetery, my boy," Conrad sighed dramatically. "The crash burned the vehicle to ash before it hit the water. There was very little left to bury."
"How convenient," Jasper said flatly.
Conrad paused, his cigar halfway to his mouth. He turned his head slowly, his dead blue eyes locking onto Jasper through the curling blue smoke. "What did you say?"
"I said it's convenient," Jasper repeated, standing up from his chair. "A car crash that burns away all the physical evidence. A tragic accident that leaves you in total control of a two-hundred-million-dollar empire. A traumatized eight-year-old boy who suddenly loses his ability to speak."
Conrad chuckled, though the sound was completely hollow. "Grief makes people paranoid, Jasper. I loved your father like a brother."
"My father hated you, Conrad," Jasper spat, stepping closer. "He used you because you were a ruthless bastard who did his dirty work. But he never trusted you. And neither did Garrett."
Conrad set his cognac glass down on the mantelpiece with a sharp click. The polite smile was completely gone now, replaced by a cold, calculating sneer.
"You were always the black sheep, Jasper," Conrad said softly. "Your father threw you out ten years ago because you were too soft for this business. You thought you could walk away, build your little empire on the West Coast, and pretend you were clean."
Conrad took a step toward him, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"But you have Concincaid blood in your veins, Jasper. And in this family, nobody leaves clean. If you're smart, you'll take a ten-million-dollar settlement, take the boy, and catch the first flight back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning."
"And if I refuse?" Jasper asked, his chest rising and falling slowly.
May you like
Conrad leaned in, his breath smelling of cognac and stale tobacco. "Then the ocean might claim another Concincaid."
Before Jasper could answer, a sudden, sharp shatter of glass echoed from the far east wing of the house, followed immediately by the blaring shrieks of the estate's security alarm.
