Chapter 10: The Garage
Ethan pushed open the heavy steel door to the garage, ushering Clara and Leo inside. The vast concrete space was dead silent, housing Ethan’s collection of vintage cars and the armored SUV he used for city travel.
"Get in the back of the SUV," Ethan instructed, tossing Clara the keys.
Before Clara could take a single step toward the vehicle, the garage's overhead fluorescent lights slammed on with a blinding buzz.
"Going somewhere, darling?"
Victoria stood between them and the SUV. She was no longer playing the part of the refined heiress. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and the silver .38 revolver in her hand was pointed directly at Clara’s chest. Flanking her were two massive, stone-faced men in medical scrubs—Dr. Aris’s handlers.
"It's over, Victoria," Ethan said, stepping squarely in front of Clara and Leo, raising his Colt M1911. He leveled the sights right at his wife’s heart. "I read the ledger. My lawyers already have digital copies. If I die tonight, the police will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
Victoria laughed, a dry, hollow sound that echoed off the concrete. "Bluffing doesn't suit you, Ethan. You've been with that maid all evening. You haven't sent anything to anyone." She cocked the hammer of her revolver. "Kill him," she ordered the handlers. "Make it look like a struggle. I'll take care of the girl and the brat."
The two men stepped forward, pulling heavy batons from their pockets.
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Suddenly, the massive steel roll-up door at the far end of the garage began to rattle violently. With an ear-splitting screech of metal, the door was torn off its tracks as a matte-black tactical vehicle rammed right through it, showering the garage in sparks and shattered concrete.
Marcus had arrived. And he was exactly on time.
