Chapter 5 - The Architect of Grief
Arthur slowly leaned back in his leather chair, keeping his hands resting flat on the mahogany desk, inches away from the concealed alarm button beneath the drawer line.
"Victoria didn't plan this alone, did she?" Arthur asked, his voice entirely devoid of panic. "A thirty-year-old socialite doesn't have the clearance to alter federal medical records or bribe a state coroner."
Vance smiled—a cold, empty curve of the lips. "Victoria was the bait, Arthur. Your firm’s research into synthetic neural blockers is worth four hundred million dollars on the private defense market. Eleanor wouldn't sell. She was principled. She had to be removed."
Arthur felt a terrible, icy realization settle into his stomach. "And Lily?"
"Lily was the key," Vance replied, raising the barrel of the silenced pistol until it lined up directly with Arthur's chest. "Eleanor placed the patent rights in an irrevocable trust assigned to the child. The only way Victoria could gain legal authorization to transfer those patents to our syndicate was to become her stepmother and immediately send the girl to an isolated facility where she could be declared incompetent."
From the sofa, a tiny blanket shifted.
May you like
Lily wasn't asleep. Her bright blue eyes were wide open in the dark, watching the man with the gun. She didn't scream. She had learned over the last eighteen months that in Asche Hall, noise was dangerous.
"You're too late, Marcus," Arthur said quietly, his eyes darting toward the window. "The flight ticket wasn't the only thing Lily gave me tonight."
