Chapter 4 - The House of Glass and Blood
The first bullet took the lead mercenary through the center of his tactical vest, dropping him instantly before he could flick the safety off his rifle. The second round shattered the kneecap of the second mercenary, dropping him to the marble floor with a shriek of agony that echoed off the high vaulted ceilings.
Wells dropped his pistol. It clattered across the floor, spinning into the corner. He fell backward against the mahogany console table, his hands raised in absolute, whimpering terror.
“Marcus!” Wells choked out, tears streaming down his face. “Marcus, wait! It was business! Just corporate restructuring! Cassandra set the parameters—she wanted the liquidity—I was just managing the accounts—”
Marcus didn't look at Wells.
His eyes were locked entirely on Cassandra Vale, who stood frozen halfway down the grand staircase, her manicured fingers gripping the polished banister so hard her knuckles were bone-white.
“You looked her in the eye every morning,” Marcus said, walking slowly across the foyer, his boots leaving wet, dark prints on the pristine marble. “You sat at my table. You let her call you mother.”
Cassandra forced a fragile, trembling smile to her lips, trying desperately to summon the high-society poise that had charmed half of Los Angeles. “Marcus... darling... listen to me. The girl isn't yours. She’s a state-ward orphan you picked out of a slum to soften your image for the federal prosecutors. You don't love her. You love your power.”
Marcus stopped six feet from the base of the stairs.
He raised the pistol, aiming not at her chest, but directly at the crystal chandelier hanging twenty feet above her head.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three suppressed shots punched through the brass anchor chain of the multi-ton chandelier. With a deafening roar of shattering glass and twisting metal, the five-thousand-pound chandelier plummeted from the ceiling, crashing down onto the staircase just three feet behind Cassandra.
She screamed, collapsing onto the steps, her silk robe tearing as she scrambled backward away from the glittering sea of broken crystal.
“You think I collected an asset, Cassandra?” Marcus said softly, his voice cutting through the ringing silence of the house. “Lily is the only clean thing left in my soul. And you tried to sell her to feed your greed.”
He turned away from her, leaving Wells and Cassandra paralyzed on the floor, and started up the grand staircase.
“Marcus!” Cassandra shrieked, her voice cracking. “The federal marshals are outside! They’re surrounding the house! If you kill us, you’ll never see her again!”
Marcus didn't stop. He reached the top of the landing, turned down the familiar marble corridor, and stopped in front of the master bedroom.
The door was locked from the inside.
He didn't bother picking it. He raised his boot and kicked the door inward with a single, brutal strike.
The bedroom was dark, lit only by the intermittent flashes of lightning cutting through the French doors.
Marcus walked across the carpet, passed the king-sized bed, and stopped in front of the cedar closet.
He reached out, his hand trembling—the only sign of weakness the ruthless crime boss had shown all night—and turned the brass knob.
The door swung open.
Inside, curled into a tiny ball behind his dark suits, was Lily.
Her face was stained with dried tears, her eyes wide and bloodshot from terror. When the light hit her, she flinched, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.
“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Marcus dropped his weapon. He hit his knees on the cedar floorboards, reached into the darkness, and pulled his daughter out into his arms, crushing her against his chest so hard he could feel every beat of her small, frightened heart.
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“I’m here, baby,” Marcus choked out, burying his face in her dark curls as the tears he had held back for fourteen months finally broke free. “I’m home. Nobody will ever touch you again. I swear it on my life.”
Lily wrapped her small arms around his neck, burying her face in his wet coat, sobbing into the wool. “I knew you would come, Daddy. I knew it.”
