Chapter 7 - The Hunter in Silk
Julian crouched behind the central prep island, his fingers white-knuckled around the handle of the chef's knife. His heart pounded against his ribs with deafening force. He was a scientist, a corporate executive who had spent his life in sterile laboratories and air-conditioned boardrooms. He had never fought for his life. But as he listened to the wood splintering, he felt an ancient, primal instinct taking over his limbs.
BANG!
With a final, violent crack, the oak door swung open.
Valentina stepped into the kitchen. In the dim blue light of the emergency indicators, she looked like a phantom. Her black gown blended into the shadows, making her pale skin and swollen red cheek stand out with terrifying clarity. In her right hand, she carried a heavy, two-foot-long solid brass poker, its pointed tip glistening in the gloom.
"Julian..." she called out, her voice dripping with a sickly sweetness that chilled his bones. "You can't hide in your own house. I know every inch of this place. I spent months studying the architectural plans while you were asleep."
She walked slowly along the stainless steel counters, dragging the tip of the brass poker across the metal surface.
SCREEECH.
The high-pitched, metallic screech echoed off the tiled walls, a agonizing sound designed to shred his nerves.
"Did you really think I loved you?" Valentina mused, stopping near the stove. "You were so pathetic after your first wife died. So desperate for someone to hold your hand, to tell you everything was going to be fine. It took me three weeks to get you to change your life insurance policy. Three weeks! You gave me fifty million dollars because I cooked you soup and listened to you talk about your stupid paintings."
Julian stayed crouched, holding his breath, waiting for her to pass his position. He needed to reach the basement stairs to protect Lily, but Valentina was standing directly between him and the service doorway.
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"And the little girl..." Valentina continued, her voice dropping an octave, becoming colder, more dangerous. "She was always a problem. So perceptive. So sticky. I was going to send her to a boarding school in Switzerland after your funeral... but now she’ll just have to be a tragic footnote in the police report."
Julian’s grip on the knife tightened until his knuckles cracked.
