Chapter 56 - The Severed Cord
The matriarch of the Vance dynasty let out a strangled gasp, her gold-handled cane clattering uselessly against the concrete. Her manicured hands clawed feebly at Arthur’s thick, gloved forearm, but she was nothing more than dry leaves in the grip of an iron vice.
"You created me to kill the people who threatened your balance sheets," Arthur whispered softly, his face inches from hers. "You used Father like a puppet, you turned Eleanor into a vain sociopath, and you cast Claire out into the gutter the moment she married a man you couldn't control."
"Arthur... please..." Victoria choked out, her face turning an alarming shade of mottled purple, her eyes bulging with terror. "I am... your blood..."
"Blood is an expense," Arthur said.
Without another word, he drove the ceramic blade straight into her abdomen.
Victoria gasped, a shuddering, breathless sound that vibrated through the damp air. Arthur held her upright for three long seconds, watching the light flicker in her ancient eyes, before pulling the blade free and letting her collapse onto the concrete like a discarded rag.
Maya screamed, burying her face into my chest. Ethan immediately shielded the children with his body, his eyes flashing with lethal fury.
Arthur wiped the blade on a paper towel from the workbench, tossing it onto Victoria’s bleeding form without a second glance.
"Pack them into the transport," Arthur commanded the contractors, gesturing toward us. "The storm is moving in over the bay. If we're not at the island bunker by midnight, the Coast Guard radar nets will be impossible to slip through."
The mercenaries hauled Ethan and me to our feet, prodding us forward with the muzzles of their rifles. As we were marched past Victoria’s dying body, her trembling hand reached out, catching the hem of my combat trousers.
I stopped. I looked down into the face of the woman who had orchestrated the murder of my family, the woman who had scoffed at my dead husband and children six months ago, the woman who had treated my life like an inconvenient footnote in a corporate spreadsheet.
Her lips moved, bubbling with dark blood. "Claire... save... the name..."
I pulled my leg away with cold disgust.
May you like
"The name died six months ago," I said softly.
We left her alone on the freezing floor, the red pool spreading outward to touch the rusted iron of the dry dock, as the heavy steel bulkhead sealed behind us with a tomb-like finality.
