Chapter 3 - The Blood on the Marble
The sound of Khloe’s body hitting the bottom landing was a sound Harrison Cole would hear in his nightmares for the rest of his life.
He had just stepped out of his car at the foot of the courthouse steps, carrying a thick leather briefcase containing the destruction of Richard Harrington’s financial empire. He had looked up just in time to see his sister’s navy dress tumbling out of control down the white stone staircase.
"KHLOE!"
The scream tore from Harrison’s throat, raw and terrifying.
He dropped his briefcase. Hundred-dollar legal filings scattered into the wind like useless white confetti. He threw himself forward, sprinting toward the landing, dropping to his knees so hard the fabric of his trousers tore and his palms scraped open against the rough stone.
"Khloe! Khloe, look at me!" Harrison choked out, his broad hands hovering over her trembling body, terrified that moving her might break her fragile neck.
Dark, thick blood was spreading across the front of her navy dress, pooling beneath her hips, staining the white marble a deep, horrific crimson.
Khloe’s face was deathly pale. Her breath came in shallow, rattling gasps. She forced her eyes open, her vision swimming with dark spots, and weakly reached out, grabbing the lapel of Harrison’s suit with a blood-smeared hand.
"Harry..." she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "The baby... please... save my baby..."
"I'm here! I'm right here!" Harrison shouted, his voice cracking with a terrifying emotional agony no one in the legal world had ever witnessed. He turned his head toward the panicked crowd. "CALL AN AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE NOW!"
At the top of the stairs, Vanessa Kensington stood frozen, her hands still extended in the air. The rage that had consumed her seconds ago had vanished, replaced by a cold, paralyzing terror. She looked down at the pool of blood, at the dying woman, and at the massive man kneeling beside her.
Beside Vanessa, Richard Harrington stepped out of the courthouse doors, having just finished a meeting with his corporate lawyers. He took in the scene—the blood, the crowd, his wife on the ground, and his mistress at the top of the steps.
Richard’s face drained of color. "Vanessa... what did you do?"
"She... she fell!" Vanessa stammered, her voice high and panicked, taking a step back. "She tripped, Richard! I didn't push her! She backed away and lost her balance!"
At the bottom of the stairs, Harrison slowly turned his head upward.
His hands were covered in his sister’s blood. His dark hair was messy, his jaw locked so tight the muscles bulged against his skin.
He looked up at Vanessa Kensington.
When Harrison’s eyes met hers, Vanessa felt her knees buckle. There was no anger in his face—only a black, abyssal void of absolute, terrifying promise. It was the look of a predator that had just decided its prey would not be allowed a quick death.
"Richard," Vanessa whispered, her teeth chattering uncontrollably as she grabbed her lover's arm. "Who is that man? Why is he looking at me like that?"
Richard looked down at the man on his knees. His stomach dropped into a bottomless pit of sheer terror.
"That's Harrison Cole," Richard breathed, his voice trembling so violently he could barely pronounce the words. "That's her brother."
Vanessa frowned, trying to maintain a brave face despite her terror. "So what? He's just a lawyer. It was an accident!"
"You don't understand," Richard whispered, stepping away from Vanessa as if she were radioactive. "He isn't just a lawyer. He’s the chairman of Cole, Sterling & Vance. He controls the federal prosecutors in three states. He bought the Attorney General's office. He... he destroys people for fun, Vanessa. And you just pushed his pregnant sister down a flight of stairs."
Sirens wailed in the distance, screaming through the streets of Montgomery County as the ambulance rushed toward the courthouse.
Harrison leaned down, pressing his forehead against Khloe’s cold, clammy temple. "Hold on, little sister," he whispered, tears finally streaming down his blood-stained cheeks. "Just hold on. I’ve got you."
Paramedics swarmed the landing seconds later, rushing Khloe onto a gurney, applying emergency pressure pads to her bleeding stomach, and wheeling her rapidly toward the waiting ambulance.
Harrison didn't get into the ambulance immediately.
He stood up slowly, wiping his bloody palms on his handkerchief. He looked down at his dark suit, soaked in his sister's blood, and then looked back up at the top of the staircase.
Vanessa and Richard were still standing there, surrounded by court officers who had moved to block the exits.
Harrison pulled his encrypted phone from his pocket. He didn't dial 911. He dialed a private, unlisted number.
"Sir?" the voice answered on the first ring. It was Marcus Vance.
"Marcus," Harrison said. His voice was completely flat, eerie, devoid of any human warmth. "Activate the protocol."
On the other end of the line, Marcus went still. "Which protocol, Harrison?"
"All of them," Harrison said coldly. "Freeze Harrington Commercial Group’s assets globally. File the criminal conspiracy charges with the District Attorney within the hour. Contact the Department of Justice regarding the offshore accounts. And Marcus?"
"Yes, Harrison?"
"I want Vanessa Kensington’s name erased from every professional registry in the country by nightfall. I want her family’s business audited by the IRS before tomorrow morning. I want her broke, isolated, and terrified."
"And Richard?" Marcus asked.
May you like
Harrison looked up at his brother-in-law, who was watching him from thirty steps above with eyes full of desperate pleading.
"Leave Richard to me," Harrison whispered. "I'm going to take everything he owns, and then I'm going to put him in a cage."
