Chapter 2 - Cold Stitches and Broken Vows

Alec was on his knees before Clara hit the marble again. The heavy silk of her skirts bunched in his fists as he pulled her into his chest. ""Clara!"" His hands, usually so steady on the trigger of a weapon, trembled as he parted the shredded bodice. The laceration along her left ribcage was fresh, deep, and bleeding profusely.
""He... he wanted to make sure I didn't run,"" Clara whispered, her lips pale, trembling against the cold lapel of his jacket. ""He told me... if I spoke a single word to you before the reception was over... he'd finish what he started on my mother.""
Alec’s jaw ground with such force the muscle jumped beneath his skin. He reached into his inner breast pocket, pulling out a burner phone. He speed-dialed three numbers. ""Dr. Evans. Suite 404. Now. Bring a surgical kit and blood coagulants. Tell no one.""
He tossed the phone aside and scooped Clara into his arms. She cried out, the movement jarring the torn flesh on her back, but Alec held her tightly against his chest, moving swiftly toward the suite's private bed. He laid her on her side, carefully avoiding the inflamed, purple ridges that crisscrossed her pale skin.
""Look at me,"" Alec commanded, his voice dropping into a rough, protective murmur as he swept stray strands of dark hair from her damp forehead. ""You're done answering to him. Do you hear me? The Vance name dies tonight. You're a Thorne now.""
""You don't know what he has on you, Alec,"" Clara sobbed, her fingers weakly clutching the fabric of his shirt. ""The documents... they weren't financial ledgers. In the safe... behind the study... it’s your brother’s file.""
Alec froze. The mention of his brother, Julian, who had vanished six years ago into the murky waters of an alleged harbor drowning, made the air vanish from his lungs. ""Julian died in an accident,"" Alec said, his voice deadly quiet.
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""It wasn't an accident,"" Clara breathed, tears spilling over the purple bruise blooming on her cheek. ""My father kept Julian alive. Until three months ago.""
Before Alec could process the horror of her words, the bedroom's private elevator chimed. The bronze doors slid open, revealing Dr. Evans carrying a black medical bag, his face pale with anxiety. But behind the doctor stood not Alec’s guards, but a lone man in a waiter's uniform holding a suppressed pistol aimed directly at Alec's heart.