Chapter 9 - The Burning Ridge
A torrential thunderstorm was washing over the mountains as Julian’s armored SUV tore through the winding dirt roads of Blackwood Ridge. The winding gravel paths were slick with mud, the dense pine trees whipping violently in the gale-force winds.
At the summit of the ridge stood the Sterling family hunting lodge—a sprawling timber and stone fortress isolated from civilization by miles of private forest. As Julian breached the tree line, he saw thick black smoke pouring from the second-story windows into the rain-drenched sky. Victoria was already executing her plan.
Julian did not wait for the vehicle to come to a complete stop. He kicked the door open, drawing his combat shotgun, and charged through the shattered front entrance.
The foyer was an inferno. Draperies were ablaze, the antique wooden staircase crackling with orange flames. In the center of the grand living room stood Victoria, still wearing the ruined, soot-covered remains of her white wedding gown. In her right hand was an empty can of accelerant; in her left, a nickel-plated revolver.
Tied to an ornate wooden chair near the stone fireplace was a woman, emaciated, pale, and bruised, her long dark hair matted with sweat and grime. Despite the four years of captivity and starvation, Julian recognized the curve of her jaw, the gentle slope of her brow. It was Elena.
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Elena lifted her head weakly, her eyes widening in disbelief through the smoke. “Ju… Julian?”
“Don't take another step!” Victoria screamed, raising the revolver and pointing it directly at Elena’s temple. Her eyes were completely unhinged, wild with manic rage. “You ruined everything! My family’s name, my wedding, our future! You threw it all away for this worthless peasant!”
