Chapter 14 - Reckoning at Dawn
By four in the morning, the rain had tapered off into a thick, creeping mist that clung to the valley floor. Mark slipped off the slow-moving train as it bypassed the southern perimeter of Blackwood Ridge. He approached the manor from the overgrown rear terrace, moving like a phantom through the early morning fog.
The house was illuminated from within like a grand stage. Inside the grand dining hall, Uncle Robert was seated at the long mahogany table, head buried in his hands, trembling with absolute ruin. Across from him, a notary public and a corporate attorney were reviewing stacks of parchment.
Chloe stood at the head of the table, pristine in a dark velvet blazer, signing each document with cold, mechanical efficiency. Her composure was unbroken, the true heir to a dynasty founded on deceit.
""And with this final signature,"" Chloe announced, handing a pen to her father, ""the Thomas Vance memorial trust dissolves into our holding firm. Sign it, Father. Put an end to this pathetic guilt.""
Robert picked up the pen with a shaking hand.
The heavy glass French doors shattered inward with a deafening crash. Mark stepped through the billowing velvet curtains, holding the revolver steady in his right hand, the flash drive raised high in his left.
The attorney jumped back, dropping his briefcase. Robert froze, staring at his nephew as if seeing a ghost returned from the grave.
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Chloe merely turned, her lips parting in that same chilling, detached smirk he had seen across Elena's deathbed.
""You really should have drowned, Mark,"" she said quietly.
