Chapter 4 - The Sound of Safety
The ride from Brooklyn back to Westchester was quiet, punctuated only by the soft hum of the hybrid engine and the patter of rain against privacy glass. Leo sat strapped into the supple leather bucket seat, clutching a silver thermos of warm cocoa that Christian's housekeeper had packed.
"Is your house a castle?" Leo asked timidly, staring out the window as the heavy iron gates of the Vance estate swung open.
"Just a big, drafty house that needs more laughter," Christian answered honestly.
When the heavy front doors opened, Clara was standing at the bottom of the curved grand staircase, wrapped in a soft ivory cardigan, her eyes swollen with worry. When she saw her brother walk through the foyer holding Christian's hand, a choked sob tore from her throat.
"Leo!"
"Clara!"
The boy dropped his backpack and sprinted across the polished parquet floor, throwing his arms around her waist. Clara sank to her knees despite the pain in her ribs, burying her face into his hair, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, whispering desperate prayers of thanksgiving.
"You're okay, you're safe, oh God, you're safe," she wept.
Leo pulled back slightly, noticing the bandage peeking through her cardigan collar. "Did he do that to you again?"
"It doesn't matter anymore, sweetheart," she said, pulling him close again. "We're safe."
Standing in the shadow of the entryway arch, Christian watched the siblings. His chest felt heavy, almost suffocating under a sensation he hadn't felt in nearly twenty years: purpose. His fortune was immense—billions spread across logistics, clean energy, and pharmaceuticals—yet none of his spreadsheets had ever produced a moment as pure as this.
Dominic walked up behind Christian, handing him a thin manila dossier. "We ran Marcus Miller through the grid, boss. He’s dirty. Unlicensed gambling debts, extortion, illegal bookmaking out of an auto shop in Queens. But that’s not all."
Christian took the folder without looking away from Clara and Leo. "What else?"
"He works as an enforcer for Jonathan Sterling's shell companies," Dominic muttered grimly.
Christian’s eyes hardened into diamond. Sterling was his main rival in the logistics sector—a ruthless legacy heir Christian was currently outbidding on a pivotal maritime contract. "So Marcus isn't just a monster. He’s connected to my world."
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"It looks that way, sir."
"Good," Christian said softly. "Then destroying him will be efficient."
