Evelyn Hart’s words hung in the grand marble hallway like a drop of poison in clear water. / Chapter 7 / 19

Chapter 8 - Confession in the DarkJulian’s panic morphed into a cold, twisted sneer. The mask of the polite, successful corporate cousin vanished completely, replaced by bitter, vitriolic hatred.

“Fine! You found it!” Julian shouted, slamming his palms onto the mahogany table. Plates rattled, and Lucas flinched, burying his face in Natalie’s arm. “You think you’re so untouchable, Daniel! You took everything that should have been mine! Our grandfather built this empire, but he left it all to you just because you were the older son, the ruthless bastard willing to get his hands dirty!”

“Elena had nothing to do with that,” Daniel growled, standing up slowly. The sheer physical presence of the crime lord made Julian take an involuntary step back. “She was an innocent woman. And you took her life because you wanted to break me.”

“I wanted to ruin you!” Julian screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “I wanted to watch you crawl! And I would have succeeded if you hadn’t hired this damn maid to keep your son from tearing himself apart!”

Julian lunged sideways, pulling a small, concealed derringer pistol from his inner coat pocket and leveling it straight at Lucas’s head.

“Step back, Daniel! Or the boy goes the same way his mother did!”

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

Daniel froze, horror paralyzing his limbs. The distance was too great; he couldn't reach his weapon in time. The guards were too far away.

In that fraction of a second, Natalie didn’t hesitate.

She didn’t reach for a gun or shout a warning. With lightning-fast precision, she grabbed the heavy silver candlestick from the center of the dining table and hurled it like a professional javelin.

Thwack!

The heavy silver base struck Julian’s wrist with bone-shattering force. The derringer fired wildly, the bullet punching harmlessly through the ornate plaster ceiling, before the pistol clattered uselessly onto the floor.

Before Julian could scream in pain, Natalie closed the distance between them, swept his legs out with a brutal martial arts kick, and slammed him face-first onto the dining table. Silverware scattered in every direction as she pinned his arm behind his back with crushing leverage.

“You talk too much,” Natalie whispered coldly into his ear, pressing her knee into his spine until he groaned in agony.

Daniel stared at her, utterly speechless. In the span of a few hours, the quiet, unassuming domestic worker he had barely acknowledged had saved his son twice, uncovered a multi-year conspiracy, and neutralized a lethal threat with cold, calculated precision.