Chapter 11 - The Higher Law
Bennett froze, the heavy iron bar hovering inches from Julian’s pale forehead. His chest heaved; his dark eyes were bloodshot, consumed by a dark, murderous rage that threatened to erase a lifetime of civilized restraint.
"Don't do it, Bennett," Josephine said softly, walking down the last few steps of the grand staircase, holding the twins tightly against her chest. "Don't become what he is."
Bennett looked down at his brother—a broken, weeping coward groaning on the cold marble floor, holding his hands up in a pathetic gesture of mercy.
Slowly, deliberately, Bennett lowered the crowbar. He dropped it onto the stone floor beside Julian’s head with a loud, ringing CLANG that made the helpless man jump.
"You're right," Bennett whispered, taking a step back. "He isn't worth going to prison for."
Outside, the heavy roar of powerful engines echoed down the long gravel driveway.
Headlights swept through the tall stained-glass windows of the foyer as two massive black armored SUVs sprayed gravel, coming to a sudden, violent stop outside the front doors of the château.
The doors were thrown open, and six tactical operators wearing dark tactical gear and carrying submachine guns swept into the grand foyer, led by a tall, gray-haired man in a immaculate charcoal suit—Arthur Vance, Bennett’s chief corporate counsel from Geneva, accompanied by Dr. Moreau.
"Mr. Sterling!" Arthur called out, his eyes wide as he assessed the scene—the shattered front doors, Julian groaning on the floor, Bennett covered in soot and blood, and Josephine standing on the stairs holding two infants. "My God... we got here as fast as we could."
"Arthur," Bennett said, his voice instantly regaining its cool, corporate authority. "Secure the house. Victoria and Dr. Henry are locked in the west tower study. My brother is lying right here."
Arthur gestured sharply to his tactical team, who instantly moved forward, securing Julian with heavy plastic zip-ties and heading up the stairs toward the west tower.
Dr. Moreau, a warm-faced, elderly woman carrying a heavy leather medical bag, stepped immediately toward Josephine.
"May I?" Dr. Moreau asked gently, gesturing to the twins.
Josephine hesitated for a fraction of a second, looking at Bennett. Bennett gave her a firm, reassuring nod.
Josephine slowly allowed the doctor to examine the two little girls. Dr. Moreau listened to their lungs with a stethoscope, checked their eyes with a penlight, and gently patted their cheeks.
"They are remarkable, my dear," Dr. Moreau smiled warmly up at Josephine. "Slightly dehydrated and exhausted, but their lungs are completely clear. No signs of smoke inhalation. They are strong little girls."
May you like
Josephine let out a shuddering sigh, the last wall of tension inside her finally crumbling as tears spilled down her soot-stained cheeks.
Bennett walked over, wrapping his arms around Josephine and the twins, holding all three of them tightly against his chest as the dark shadows of Château de l'Ombre were finally swept away by the morning light breaking over the Dordogne Valley.
