Chapter 13 - Sins of the Father
""Julian!"" Eleanor screamed, falling to her knees at the edge of the pier, staring into the frothing, black abyss where her only son had vanished. The icy water offered no answer, only the relentless slap of waves against the rotted pilings.
Arthur stood frozen on the gangplank, his arrogant facade finally cracking into jagged pieces of horror. He stared at the empty water, his hand trembling against the silver handle of his cane. His legacy, his chosen heir, the continuation of his name—gone in a heartbeat.
""You killed him,"" Arthur whispered, turning his gaze toward Clara, his voice trembling with poisonous rage. ""You slaughtered my son.""
Arthur reached inside his trench coat, pulling out a compact, black semiautomatic pistol. He raised it deliberately, aiming it straight at Clara’s forehead as she lay curled in agony on the planks, clutching her ruptured abdomen.
""Arthur, look at me!"" Eleanor bellowed, rising to her feet, placing herself squarely in front of the barrel. ""Look at your wife!""
Arthur stopped, the gun inches from Eleanor’s face. ""Move, Eleanor. She ended our bloodline. She dies.""
""You ended our bloodline the day you decided money was worth more than human souls,"" Eleanor said, her voice dropping into a terrifying, deadly calm. ""Julian wasn't a monster until you molded him into one. You poisoned him, Arthur. Just like you poisoned this family.""
Behind Arthur, the sirens of three approaching state trooper cruisers began to echo through the coastal mist, their red and blue lights painting the low clouds in violent streaks.
Arthur’s jaw clenched. He heard the sirens. He knew the game was lost. He lowered the gun, a sickening sneer returning to his lips. ""It doesn't matter. You have no proof. I am legally dead. My assets are untouchable. You'll spend the rest of your miserable life in a prison cell for covering for me, Eleanor.""
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Eleanor smiled—a cold, triumphant smile that sent a shiver through Arthur’s spine. She reached into her navy blazer pocket and pulled out a small, blinking digital dictaphone.
""Every word from the study, Arthur,"" she said softly. ""Every word on this dock. Directly streamed to the Federal Bureau of Investigation's cloud server.""
