Chapter 3 - BLOOD VOWS
Julian Vance didn't run. He didn't scream. A cold, calculating mask descended over his face as the entire ballroom turned to look at him in utter horror.
"Julian..." Richard said, his voice dropping to an icy, dangerous register. "You?"
"Don't be dramatic, Richard," Julian said smoothly, stepping over a piece of broken drywall as he set his champagne glass down on a nearby silver tray. He reached into his tailored jacket and pulled out a sleek, dark smartphone. "Did you really think a empire worth forty billion dollars could belong to a man who spends his days weeping over memories? You’re weak, Richard. You’ve always been soft."
"He is your nephew!" Richard shouted, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth groaned. "He is a child!"
"He is an obstacle," Julian corrected coldly.
In that instant, three of the estate’s primary security guards—men Richard had paid millions to protect his home—stepped in front of Julian and Eleanor, pulling concealed handguns from beneath their tuxedos and aiming them directly at Richard and the crowd.
The ballroom erupted into chaos. High-society guests screamed, scrambling over chairs and tripping over long gowns as they rushed frantically toward the rear exits. Within seconds, the grand hall emptied, leaving only Richard, the maid Maria, the young boy, and the conspirators.
"Did you think I didn't have a contingency plan?" Julian smirked, walking calmly toward the entrance doors. "The local police chief is on my payroll, Richard. By the time anyone responds to a distress call, you, the boy, and this foolish maid will be registered as victims of a tragic gas leak explosion caused by wall renovation. Eleanor, get the car."
Eleanor scrambled up from the floor, her blue gown torn at the hem, her eyes frantic as she followed Julian toward the front doors.
"You won't leave this house alive, Julian," Richard said, stepping back into the shadow of the grand staircase, sheltering Leo with his body.
"I already have," Julian replied smoothly. He signaled the three armed guards. "Clean this up. Make it look accidental."
Julian and Eleanor slipped out the front double doors into the pouring rain. The three armed guards raised their weapons, stepping deliberately over the shattered marble floor toward Richard.
"Mr. Sterling, behind the wine cellar door!" Maria whispered urgently, pointing to a small utility entrance hidden behind the oak paneling near the kitchen hallway.
Richard didn't hesitate. Holding Leo tight against his chest, he sprinted across the slick floor, grabbed Maria by the arm, and shoved through the heavy metal door, slamming the deadbolt home just as three gunshots shattered the wood paneling above their heads.
They were trapped in the lower service corridors of the sprawling estate. But Richard Sterling was no longer just a mourning father. The fire of grief had turned into the raw, ruthless survival instinct that had built his fortune.
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"Daddy," Leo whispered in the dark, clutching his father's coat. "Uncle Julian said you were dead."
Richard kissed the top of his son's soot-covered head. "Uncle Julian was wrong, tiny man. Daddy is right here. And nobody is taking you from me ever again."
