Chapter 7 - The Mastermind
The cold wind whipped across the tarmac as Kincaid’s cruel words echoed in my ears.
Roman shifted his car into park, his hand hovering over the heavy assault rifle resting on the center console.
“What is he talking about, Clara?” Roman asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
I stared at Silas Kincaid, my mind unable to process how this monster knew my name.
“I chose you, Clara,” Kincaid shouted over the roar of the jet engines.
“A broke, desperate single woman with no family ties and no money to hire lawyers.”
Kincaid pulled a thick file from his coat and tossed it onto the concrete runway.
“You were the perfect person to hide the Vale heiress off the grid until I was ready to claim her.”
Tears streamed down my sister’s bruised face as the gunman pressed the barrel harder against her temple.
“Let her go, Kincaid!” Roman yelled out the window.
“I will sign over the ports, the shipping lanes, everything.”
Kincaid laughed, a dry, humorless sound that chilled me to the bone.
“I don't want your businesses, Roman.”
“I want the trust fund, and I want you completely destroyed.”
Roman opened his door, stepping out of the SUV with his hands raised, but holding a detonator switch in his left palm.
“If you shoot the girl, I blow the jet, Kincaid,” Roman threatened.
Kincaid didn't even flinch at the threat of the explosives.
“You can blow up the plane, Roman, but you can't blow up the person waiting inside for you.”
Kincaid gestured to the top of the aircraft stairs.
The cabin door opened slowly, and a woman stepped out into the morning light.
She was wearing a pristine white coat, looking completely untouched by the violence of the past week.
May you like
Roman dropped the detonator, his entire body going rigid with disbelief.
Standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at us with cold, calculating eyes, was Victoria Vale.
