Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Legacy
I stared at my grandfather’s looping, unmistakable signature in absolute, paralyzing horror.
I had idolized the patriarch of our family my entire life.
I had believed he was the only decent, honest man in a bloodline filled with ruthless corporate sharks.
Clara watched my entire worldview shatter into a million jagged pieces.
She softly explained that my grandfather was actually the mastermind behind our brutal separation.
He believed that a multiple pregnancy with a working-class woman would completely ruin the family’s elite public image.
My grandfather had orchestrated the car crash that put me in a coma to physically stop me from marrying Clara.
My hands shook violently as I dropped the terrifying documents onto the cheap coffee table.
I realized the antique cuff links on my wrists were a sick, twisted mockery of my blind loyalty.
I ripped the gold links from my sleeves and threw them aggressively across the small apartment.
I swore to Clara that I would tear my family’s empire straight to the ground to protect her and our sons.
Suddenly, the harsh, blinding beams of three heavy tactical SUVs illuminated the apartment windows.
The screeching of tires echoed through the quiet neighborhood as heavily armed men poured into the street.
My father had sent a private mercenary team to finish the job Sloane had failed to complete.
I grabbed Clara by the hand and told her to wake the boys up as quietly as possible.
We slipped through the narrow kitchen window and climbed down the rusting metal fire escape.
We dropped into the dark, damp alleyway just as the front door of the apartment was violently kicked off its hinges.
I guided my family toward my parked car, praying we could escape the city before they locked down the perimeter.
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As we reached the edge of the alley, a tall, imposing figure stepped out of the shadows and racked the slide of a shotgun.
It was the private investigator I had hired just an hour ago to help me find Clara.
