Chapter 6 - The Monster He Raised
The horrific revelation that a thirteen-year-old wanted me dead sent icy chills down my spine.
I remembered all the countless times Tristan had glared at me across the family dinner table.
I had always blamed Zachary and Vanessa for maliciously turning the young boy against me.
But now I realized that Tristan was a cruel and entirely willing participant in their sick game.
He hated me simply because I was the only person who firmly refused to bow down to his spoiled tantrums.
Julian informed me that the police were already on their way to arrest the troubled teenager.
I hugged Chloe tightly, immensely grateful that we had somehow survived the assassination attempt.
The heavy steel door of the panic room finally opened once the building was fully secured.
Julian and I walked out to the ruined living room to meet with the arriving police detectives.
The lead detective informed us that a SWAT team had raided Zachary’s mansion ten minutes ago.
Zachary had been arrested for massive tax fraud, but Tristan and Vanessa were nowhere to be found.
They had completely vanished from the lavish property before the police even breached the gates.
I felt a sickening dread settle deep in my stomach as I realized they were actively on the run.
Julian assigned two heavily armed bodyguards to watch over Chloe in the guest bedroom.
He sat down with me at the kitchen island and pulled out a classified underground police file.
He told me that Vanessa had a long history of extreme violence that Zachary actively covered up.
She had supposedly driven her first husband to madness before conveniently inheriting all his wealth.
My blood ran cold as I realized Zachary was likely just a disposable pawn in Vanessa's larger scheme.
Suddenly, the penthouse intercom buzzed loudly, rudely interrupting our tense conversation.
Julian walked over to the security monitor and pressed the button to view the lobby camera feed.
The grainy screen showed Tristan standing alone in the lobby, completely drenched in rain and shivering.
His young face was covered in dark bruises, and his expensive designer clothes were violently torn.
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He looked up at the camera with terrified eyes and begged me to let him upstairs.
He sobbed hysterically into the microphone, claiming that his own mother was trying to murder him.
