Chapter 8 - Sins of the Father
Marcus drove like a madman, tires screeching on the wet pavement. He had tracked the GPS beacon he had secretly sewn into Lily's parka. The signal led to an abandoned psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of the city—Silas's true stronghold.
Marcus didn't care about the ledger anymore. He didn't care about the law, his career, or his life. He only cared about the little girl who wore his daughter's silver moon.
He breached the hospital alone. He moved through the decaying, graffiti-covered hallways with lethal precision, taking out Silas’s guards one by one. He was out of ammunition, relying on a combat knife and the darkness.
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He found them in the old cafeteria. Lily was tied to a chair, crying silently. Silas stood over her, a gun pressed to her head.
"Drop the knife, Marcus," Silas ordered, his aristocratic calm finally cracking. "Or I blow my own daughter's brains out."
