Chapter 14 - The Rooftop Confrontation
The thunder roared over the Vance estate as Raymond’s helicopter touched down near the lawn just fifteen minutes later. Raymond jumped from the skid before the blades even slowed, racing toward the mansion roof.
Up on the helipad, a sleek black commercial chopper sat with its rotors spinning, whipping the torrential rain into a frenzy.
Nicholas Kane stood near the passenger door, holding a reinforced titanium briefcase. Beside him stood Clara—no longer wearing the fragile silk pajamas, but a black tactical jumpsuit, her hair tied back, her expression hardened like flint.
Raymond kicked open the roof access door, stepping into the storm. He didn't raise a weapon. He stood tall against the tempest, water streaming down his sharp features.
""Clara,"" Raymond called out over the rotor wash.
Clara turned. For a fraction of a second, her stoic mask wavered, a flash of genuine conflict flickering in her dark eyes.
""Let her go, Raymond,"" Kane shouted, pulling a submachine gun from his coat. ""She chose her blood five years ago. We built this plan before you even knew she existed.""
""Did you?"" Raymond asked, his voice cutting through the wind with unnatural calm.
May you like
Raymond slowly raised his hand, pointing not at Kane, but at the titanium briefcase in Kane's grip.
""Check the serial number on that case, Nicholas.""
