Chapter 10 - The Broken Vault
Rachel bolted from the sofa, the sudden movement tearing at the fresh stitches in her cheek. A sharp cry of pain escaped her lips as hot blood began to seep through the white gauze once more.
“Melissa! Wake up!” Rachel screamed, backing toward the front door.
Melissa stirred, blinking groggily, but Daniel moved with terrifying speed. He slammed both coffee mugs onto the counter and lunged forward, catching Rachel by the wrist and twisting her arm behind her back. He shoved her hard against the wall, pinning her with his forearm against her throat.
“Shut up,” Daniel hissed in her ear. “Both of you, shut up.”
Melissa scrambled out of the armchair, screaming in terror. “Daniel! What are you doing? Let her go!”
“Sit back down on the couch, Melissa, or I’ll snap her collarbone right now,” Daniel said without looking back. His grip on Rachel was iron-clad, practiced, and cold.
Rachel struggled frantically, clawing at his sleeve, her vision blurring from the pain in her face and the lack of oxygen. “It was you… you and Evan… you were working together!”
“Evan is a pathetic, cowardly degenerate,” Daniel scoffed softly near her ear. “He couldn’t execute a simple disfigurement without botching the placement. He was supposed to use a clean wire to sever your facial tendon cleanly so I could sign off on permanent nerve damage at the clinic tomorrow morning. Instead, he shoved staples into the cake like an amateur idiot.”
“Why?” Rachel choked out, tears of betrayal spilling down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because Arthur’s money was never meant for you or your idiot brother!” Daniel snapped, his calm facade finally cracking into pure venom. “Arthur stole that fortune from my family thirty years ago in the North Kansas City land buyouts! My father died penniless in a county asylum while your grandfather built shopping plazas and private estates! I spent four years earning your trust, Rachel. Four years listening to your pathetic complaints about your family while waiting for that old bastard to finally die!”
From the coffee table, Daniel’s phone began to buzz furiously.
The screen lit up with the caller ID: *Detective Laura Kim*.
Daniel glanced sideways at the vibrating phone, his jaw tightening. “Looks like the police caught on faster than expected. That changes our timeline.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, pre-filled glass syringe equipped with a heavy gauge needle—the exact same amber liquid Kim had found in the bunker.
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“The disfigurement payout won’t work anymore,” Daniel whispered, raising the syringe toward Rachel’s exposed neck. “We’re skipping straight to the accidental death clause.”
***
