Chapter 1 - The Misplaced Hinge
Dominic Vale stared at the small, trembling finger of the four-year-old girl.
He slowly bent down, his bad knee screaming in violent protest with every inch he moved.
His thick fingers brushed against the cold metal tab on the lower strap of his medical brace.
Ellie was absolutely right.
The shiny part of the locking mechanism was facing outward instead of inward.
He specifically remembered his private physical therapist locking it inward that very morning.
This specific metal tab controlled the tension of the medial hinge that supported his weight.
Reversing it meant the brace was actively pushing his healing joint completely out of alignment.
Every single step he had taken for the last three weeks had been tearing his leg apart on purpose.
The agonizing pain was not a natural setback in his healing process as the doctors had claimed.
Someone had deliberately sabotaged his daily recovery to make him appear weak to the council.
He looked up at Vincent, his dark eyes suddenly turning cold and deeply calculating.
He ordered his head of security to take the girl and her mother to his private office immediately.
Clare gasped in sheer panic, clutching Ellie tightly to her chest as if shielding her from a bullet.
She begged and pleaded with him, promising that they had not done anything wrong.
Dominic softened his deep voice just a fraction to ease the terrified mother's panic.
He quietly told Clare that she and her daughter had actually done him a massive favor today.
Vincent stepped forward to escort them away, but Dominic held up a commanding hand.
He instructed Vincent to lock them inside the office and post a heavily armed guard at the door.
He wanted them kept perfectly safe from what was about to happen in that boardroom.
Dominic gripped his heavy wooden cane and forced himself to straighten his broad back.
He aggressively blocked out the blinding, white-hot pain shooting up his injured thigh.
He reached down and snapped the metal tab back into its proper, inward-facing position.
A loud, satisfying mechanical click echoed sharply in the completely quiet hallway.
Instant physical relief flooded his damaged leg as the artificial tension finally released its grip.
He turned his dangerous gaze toward the heavy glass doors where Arthur Voss sat smiling.
Arthur had been the one to personally recommend this highly specialized medical team.
Arthur had also been the one aggressively pushing for today's emergency vote of no confidence.
Dominic walked toward the glass doors, his trademark limp noticeably less pronounced than before.
He pushed the glass open with one hand, letting the heavy doors swing wide into the room.
The six powerful men sitting around the polished walnut table fell completely and utterly silent.
Arthur's arrogant, confident smile faltered slightly as he noticed Dominic's vastly improved posture.
Arthur smoothly stated that they were beginning to worry about his physical condition.
Dominic told him not to waste his breath as he firmly locked the boardroom doors from the inside.
He calmly announced that no one was leaving this room until he found out who paid his doctor to cripple him.
The temperature in the luxurious room seemed to drop ten degrees in a matter of seconds.
Arthur's hand slid slowly and deliberately beneath the edge of the heavy mahogany table.
Dominic saw the subtle, deadly movement and tightened his grip on the solid handle of his cane.
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Before Dominic could speak another word, the deafening sound of shattered glass echoed from the hallway outside.
Vincent’s desperate voice roared from the corridor, followed instantly by the terrifying crack of a shotgun blast.
