Chapter 22 - THE GHOST RETURNS FROM THE ABYSS
"Explain yourself, Evelyn," Grant demanded, his voice dropping an octave into that dangerous, icy register that had made him a titan in the corporate world. He didn't offer her a hand to help her up from the floor. He kept himself firmly positioned between her and Lydia, his protective instincts overriding any fleeting sense of family obligation.
Evelyn sobbed, her manicured fingers digging into the expensive wool of her ruined coat. "I didn't know! When Thomas was indicted, I thought his money would protect me abroad. But the Swiss accounts were frozen. I was cut off six months ago. I had to live on the streets of London, Grant! And then... two weeks ago, I saw him."
Lydia stepped closer, her gaze sharp and analytical. "Saw who? Thomas?"
"Yes!" Evelyn whimpered, looking up at Lydia with eyes wide with genuine panic. "He’s changed, Lydia. Prison didn't break him; it hardened him into something demonic. He lost everything because of the trial you orchestrated, Grant. He blames you both. But mostly... he blames Lydia. He’s been asking about the scars on her arms, calling them his 'property' that you stole."
A dark, lethal shadow crossed Grant’s face. The memory of the day he first truly saw what the oven had done to Lydia’s arms—the severe, angry burns she had hidden under long sleeves for years while cooking Thanksgiving dinner for ungrateful monsters—flashed in his mind. The rage that boiled inside him was incandescent.
"He’s not touching her," Grant snarled, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned pure white. "If Thomas thinks he can step foot anywhere near my wife, I will personally ensure he spends the rest of his miserable life rotting in a supermax facility."
"You don't understand!" Evelyn screamed hysterically, grabbing at the hem of Grant’s trousers. "He’s not alone! He made deals inside. Dangerous people. They don't care about the law, Grant. They care about destruction. And they know you’re hosting this dinner tonight. They know where you are!"
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Before anyone could process the terrifying weight of Evelyn’s warning, the smart-home security panel near the kitchen suddenly shrieked a high-pitched, automated alarm. *WARNING: PERIMETER BREACH. GATE 4 SENSORS TRIGGERED.*
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