Chapter 8 - The Price of Silence
The needle drove deep into the muscle of Arthur's shoulder.
A searing, liquid burn rushed through his veins, fighting the cold paralysis creeping toward his heart. Arthur gasped, his chest heaving as air flooded back into his lungs, his vision clearing from the dark edges that had begun to swallow his sight.
Lily clung to his neck, her small hands wrapped around his collar, her tears dampening the fabric of his ruined suit.
"Is it over?" Lily whimpered, her voice trembling.
Arthur pulled her close, pressing a kiss against her pearl headband. "It's over, sweetheart. Nobody is ever sending you away."
Ten minutes later, Arthur walked down the grand marble staircase of Asche Hall, holding Lily securely in his arms. In the driveway below, flashing red and blue lights illuminated the pristine white facade of the estate.
Standing beside a police cruiser, wrapped in a coarse yellow blanket over her ruined champagne wedding dress, was Victoria. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back, her blonde hair messy, her eyes wide with frantic, ugly panic as federal agents loaded her personal safe into an evidence van.
She looked up as Arthur approached the bottom step.
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"Arthur! Please!" Victoria screamed, her voice cracking against the night air. "Marcus forced me! He threatened my family! You know I loved you!"
Arthur stopped at the edge of the driveway. He didn't answer her with anger. He looked at her with the cold, absolute detachment one reserves for a stranger.
