Chapter 9 - The Devil in the Foyer
The cold mountain air swept into the grand foyer, stirring the acrid smell of gun smoke and shattered marble. Julian Vance walked through the ruined entryway with calculated arrogance, his Italian leather shoes stepping carefully around the spent shell casings littering the floor.
Behind him, two federal marshals entered with their hands on their holsters, their eyes wide as they surveyed the carnage of the failed assault from an hour earlier.
""Good evening, Vincent,"" Julian called out, stopping at the base of the double staircase. He held out his arms theatrically. ""Quite the home renovation you have going here. Looks like the neighborhood is going downhill.""
Vincent did not reply immediately. He walked down the sweeping curved staircase with steady, deliberate steps, carrying Clara in his arms. His face was an emotionless mask of aristocratic stone.
""Agent Miller,"" Vincent said, addressing the senior federal marshal while ignoring Julian completely. ""You're trespassing on private property without a valid search warrant.""
The senior marshal cleared his throat, pulling a certified document from an envelope. ""Mr. Morelli, we have an emergency federal custody warrant issued by Judge Harrison. Child welfare extraction. The biological father, Mr. Vance, has presented irrefutable genetic proof that Clara Vance is his daughter, unlawfully retained by your family.""
Clara clung tighter to Vincent’s neck, her small knuckles turning white.
""Her name is Clara Morelli,"" Vincent said coldly, stopping on the third step from the bottom, keeping an elevated height over Julian. ""Her birth certificate, registered in the state of New York, lists Michael Morelli and his late wife as her legal parents. That document has never been revoked.""
Julian chuckled, stepping forward until he was just feet away from Vincent. ""A fraudulent document, Vincent. Falsified by Michael's crooked lawyers when he stole my infant daughter from a private clinic in Vienna. We both know the truth. The court knows the truth.""
Julian extended his hands toward Clara, putting on a sickeningly warm, paternal smile. ""Clara, darling. Look at me. I'm your father. Come here, sweetheart. You don't have to be afraid of this monster anymore.""
Clara looked at him, then down at the silver locket around her neck. Her lip trembled. She looked at Julian’s outstretched hands, then slowly turned her head and buried her face deeper into Vincent's neck, whispering:
""Uncle Vincent... tell him to go away.""
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Julian’s smile instantly vanished, replaced by an ugly, twitching snarl. ""Hand her over, Vincent. Or the marshals drag you out in chains.""
Vincent leaned forward, his eyes boring into Julian's with venomous clarity. ""Try to touch her, Julian. And the document in my breast pocket goes straight to the Department of Justice.""
