Chapter 6 - The Family Reunion
Megan kept the barrel of the shotgun leveled perfectly at Daniel's chest.
She forced us through the grand foyer and down the hallway toward the kitchen.
The house still smelled faintly of my grandmother's lavender perfume.
The contrast between the warm memories of this house and the current nightmare was sickening.
Megan pushed us down the wooden stairs leading into the massive, finished basement.
My father was sitting at a large oak table, swirling a glass of expensive scotch.
Vance stood in the corner, his arms crossed, looking bored.
My dad didn't even have the decency to look ashamed when he saw me.
He wiped the fake blood off his lip with a wet towel and smiled.
He told me to have a seat, acting like this was a casual family meeting.
I refused to sit down and called him a monster.
He laughed and said I was always too emotional for business.
He admitted that he and Greg had drowned in gambling debts years ago.
When my grandmother died and left the estate to me, they realized they were ruined.
They hired Vance not as a loan shark, but as an actor and muscle to force my hand.
I looked at Megan, asking her how she could participate in this insanity.
Megan sneered and said she was tired of living in a tiny apartment while I inherited millions.
She said she deserved half of the estate, and since I wouldn't share, she was taking it all.
Daniel asked my dad where Greg was.
My dad said Greg was currently at our house, waiting for our neighbor to fall asleep.
He calmly explained that if I didn't sign the real deed tonight, Greg would kidnap Lily.
My blood ran completely cold.
This wasn't just about money anymore; they were threatening my three-year-old daughter.
My dad slid the quitclaim deed across the table, along with a fancy black pen.
He told me to sign it, and they would leave my family alone forever.
I picked up the pen, my hand trembling with a mixture of terror and violent rage.
Before the tip of the pen could touch the paper, the basement door at the top of the stairs slammed open.
Footsteps pounded down the wooden steps.
Diane marched into the basement, her coat soaked from the rain.
She looked at my dad holding the scotch, then at Megan holding the shotgun.
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She didn't look confused by the fake kidnapping.
She raised a heavy, silver revolver and aimed it directly at my father's head.
