Chapter 16 - Sins of the Father
The abandoned cathedral loomed in the pouring rain like a decaying skeleton, its shattered stained-glass windows looking like jagged, colorful teeth.
I pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the rusted hinges screaming into the absolute silence of the massive, empty sanctuary.
Dozens of heavily armed Volkov mercenaries stepped out from the shadows of the stone pillars, their laser sights painting a dozen red dots on my chest.
I did not flinch, walking calmly down the center aisle until I reached the ruined altar, where a single figure stood waiting in the darkness.
"You have incredible courage, Clara, just like your mother," a deep, chillingly familiar voice echoed through the damp cathedral.
The man stepped into the moonlight filtering through the broken roof, revealing a face I had grieved for ten agonizing years.
My father, Arthur Reed, was completely alive, wearing an expensive tailored suit and a cold, ruthless expression that chilled me to the bone.
"You are working with the Volkovs?" I gasped, the ultimate betrayal hitting me harder than any physical blow ever could.
"I am not working with them; I own them," Arthur corrected smoothly, walking down the altar steps to stand right in front of me.
"I faked my death to rebuild a stronger, more ruthless empire in Europe, completely free from the pathetic morals Dominic tried to instill in the syndicate."
I stared at the man I had worshipped as a hero, seeing absolutely nothing but a power-hungry monster wearing my father’s face.
"You let me and Tyler starve! You let him nearly die from a failing heart while you played king in the shadows!" I screamed, tears of pure fury burning my eyes.
"Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, Clara," Arthur stated coldly, entirely devoid of any paternal warmth or remorse.
"Dominic stole my throne in Chicago, but now that you have the Black File, we can legally take everything back together."
He held out his hand, expecting me to simply hand over the USB drive and fall in line as his obedient, naive daughter.
"And if I refuse?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous, deadly whisper as my hand hovered near the pistol on my hip.
Arthur smiled a wicked, terrifying smile, gesturing to a mercenary who dragged a beaten, bloody figure out from the shadows.
It was Mrs. Hargrove, the traitorous house manager we had left for the police weeks ago, now entirely at my father's mercy.
"If you refuse, I will order my men to storm the bunker, and I will personally execute Tyler and Dominic's bastard child," Arthur threatened calmly.
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My blood turned to absolute ice; the man who gave me life was entirely willing to slaughter my found family without a second thought.
"You are no longer my father," I whispered, drawing my pistol with lightning speed and aiming it directly at the center of his forehead.
