Chapter 4 - Masks Stripped Bare
Grayson’s jaw tightened until the tendons stood out like corded rope against his neck. The facade of the polished heir had shattered completely; in its place was a cornered animal, baring its teeth because it had run out of ground to retreat.
"You have no authority here, Vance," Grayson spat, his fists clenching at his sides. "This estate belongs to my wife. And by law, until our divorce papers are signed and filed, half of every brick, every bolt, and every scrap of paper in this garage belongs to me. Give me the ledger, Vivian, and I might just let you walk away from the divorce with a roof over your head."
I stepped around Lucas, ignoring the warning pressure of his hand on my forearm. I wanted Grayson to look at me. I wanted him to see the exact moment the woman who had spent four years arranging his flowers, managing his calendars, and smiling politely at his cruel family ceased to exist.
"You talk about the law?" I asked, a bitter smile touching my lips. "The law says fraud in excess of twenty million dollars carries a minimum federal sentence of twenty-five years. Page forty-seven of this ledger shows seven shell corporations registered in the Cayman Islands under your mother’s maiden name. Page sixty-two details the kickbacks you took from the substandard steel supplier for the harbor bridge project—the very project where two workers died when the crane collapsed."
Grayson flinched as if struck. His eyes darted to the dark corners of the garage, looking for an exit, looking for an excuse.
"That wasn't my fault," he hissed, his voice dropping into a desperate plea. "My father forced my hand! You know what he’s like, Vivian. He would have disinherited me! Everything I did, I did to keep the family solvent. I did it for us!"
"Don't you dare say my name in the same breath as your crimes," I said, my voice hardening to steel. "You didn't do it for us. You did it for your pride. You did it so you could stand beneath the chandeliers at the Grand Meridian and feel like a god, while the man who built this company lay in an early grave."
A silence descended upon the carriage house, thick and suffocating. The only sound was the patter of water dripping from Grayson’s soaked cuffs onto the concrete.
Then, Grayson’s face shifted. The desperation gave way to a cold, reptilian malice.
"You really think you're going to make it out of this valley with that book, don't you?" he whispered, tilting his head. He pulled his hands from his pockets and held up a sleek black smartphone. The screen was illuminated, displaying an active call timer.
My stomach plummeted.
"Did you really believe I drove up here alone, darling?" Grayson sneered. "I may be desperate, but I’m not stupid. Julian and four of our private security contractors are pulling up to the main gate as we speak. They have orders to secure the estate and recover stolen proprietary assets. By any means necessary."
Lucas reacted instantly. He seized my elbow with iron grip, his voice dropping to a sharp command. "Vivian, back entrance. Through the cellar tunnel to the orchard. Go!"
"No one is leaving!" Grayson shouted, lunging forward with his arm outstretched, reaching blindly for the heavy ledger in my arms.
Before Grayson’s fingers could even brush the leather, Lucas moved with terrifying efficiency. He caught Grayson by the throat with one hand and slammed him against the vintage Aston Martin. The impact shook the car, the metal hood groaning under the force. Grayson gasped for air, his feet dangling an inch off the floor as Lucas pressed his forearm against Grayson’s windpipe.
"You touch her again," Lucas whispered into Grayson’s ear, his voice freezing the air in the room, "and they will find pieces of you in the harbor."
Lucas released him. Grayson collapsed to his knees, coughing violently, clutching his bruised throat.
Lucas grabbed the keys to the Aston Martin from the workbench, tossed them to me, and gripped my hand. "The car won't make it down the driveway if they've blocked the gate. We take the side trail through the woods. Move!"
May you like
Behind us, coughing and wheezing from the floor, Grayson raised his head, his face twisted with pure hatred. "Run, Vivian! Run to the ends of the earth! You won't live to see the sunrise!"
***
