Chapter 9 - The Dark Room
Thomas took a slow sip of his expensive whiskey, savoring his ultimate victory over his blind brother.
"I actually told Arthur to kill your wife and daughter that night," Thomas confessed casually.
"But the coward panicked, hid Emma in a shipping container, and blew up the empty car instead."
Hannah let out a muffled sob, clutching Lucy tightly against her chest in the corner of the room.
"Where is my daughter, Thomas?" Grant demanded, keeping his unseeing gaze fixed slightly past his brother's head.
"She is locked in my private warehouse in Brooklyn, totally convinced that her father abandoned her," Thomas smiled cruelly.
Daniel pulled out a stack of legal documents and slammed them onto the mahogany desk.
"Sign the estate and the business over to Thomas, and we will let the maid and her brat walk away," Daniel ordered.
Grant slowly reached out, his hand shaking convincingly as he felt around for the gold pen on the desk.
He needed an advantage, and he knew perfectly well that his enemies relied entirely on his blindness.
"I will sign it," Grant whispered in defeat.
He leaned forward, his hand brushing against the base of the heavy, antique bronze desk lamp.
With lightning speed, Grant gripped the lamp and swung it brutally into the main light switch on the wall.
The glass shattered instantly, short-circuiting the room and plunging the office into absolute pitch-black darkness.
Panic erupted immediately as Daniel fired his gun blindly into the ceiling.
"Turn the lights back on!" Thomas roared in the dark, tripping over a heavy chair.
Grant’s eyes, already accustomed to living in shadows, adjusted much faster than the others.
He moved silently across the carpet, grabbing Daniel’s arm and delivering a punishing strike to his throat.
Daniel gagged and collapsed to the floor, dropping his weapon.
Grant scooped up the gun in one fluid motion, aiming it directly at the blurry shape of his treacherous brother.
"Nobody moves," Grant commanded, his voice echoing with lethal authority.
He had the upper hand, and the men who destroyed his life were finally at his mercy.
Suddenly, the harsh beam of a yellow flashlight cut through the darkness, blinding Grant’s sensitive, recovering eyes.
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"Drop the gun, Grant, or I shoot the mother and the kid right now," Dr. Hale shouted.
Grant squinted painfully against the light to see Hale pressing his pistol firmly against Hannah's temple.
