Chapter 12 - Bloodlines
Marianne reeled backward, blinking away the stinging white phosphor smoke, clutching her dislocated wrist. When her vision cleared, the man standing over her was not a federal agent.
""Jonathan,"" she hissed, her voice vibrating with genuine shock. ""You... you died in the Mediterranean.""
""I let you believe that so I wouldn't have to put you in a cage,"" Jonathan said, his suppressed pistol trained steadily between her eyes. ""You killed my father. You tried to slaughter Elena. You tried to steal my son.""
Marianne laughed—a dry, rattling sound that turned into a mocking cackle. ""Your father was weak! He wanted to dissolve the foundation, to give our wealth away to public charities! I built this empire with my bare hands! You and Elena are parasites feeding on the fruits of my ambition!""
""Where is Leo?"" Elena's voice cut through the lingering smoke from the doorway.
Marianne turned her head, her smile stretching into a ghastly grin at the sight of Elena standing there, battered, bruised, but undeniably alive.
""You look dreadful, darling,"" Marianne sneered. ""Did the worms not find you appetizing?""
Elena didn't waste words. She crossed the room in three swift strides, driving the heel of her hand hard into Marianne's jaw. The older woman smashed into the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, gasping for air as rare books tumbled around her.
""The panic room code,"" Elena demanded, pressing the barrel of her weapon into Marianne’s temple. ""Now.""
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Marianne glared up at her, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth, completely unrepentant. ""The panic room is sealed with a biometric atmospheric cycle. If I don't enter the key within five minutes, the air scrubbers shut down. And only my retina opens that door.""
Suddenly, the house shuddered. An explosion rattled the windows from the rooftop landing above.
