Chapter 6 - The Final Polish
Richard Vance gasped, clutching his shoulder as blood bloomed through his expensive suit jacket. He spun around in shock.
Standing in the doorway, her hands shaking but her eyes absolute ice, was Martha Vance.
"Martha..." Richard gasped. "What are you doing?"
"I spent thirty years watching you destroy everyone around us, Richard," Martha said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I watched you turn our son into a monster. I looked away when he hurt Mia. I stayed silent because I was afraid of you. But I am not going to let you kill innocent people tonight."
Robert panicked. Seeing his mother turn on his father shattered whatever fragile sanity he had left. He spun the gun toward his mother.
But my father was already moving.
In a blur of motion, Frank crossed the room. He grabbed Robert’s wrist, twisting it upward. A sickening crack echoed through the penthouse as Robert's wrist snapped. The gun fell from his hand, clattering across the marble floor.
My father swept Robert’s crutch out from under him. Robert collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony as his broken leg took the impact.
My father stood over him, looking down with cold disgust.
I walked over to where Robert lay. He looked up at me, his face twisted in pain and fear, waiting for me to flinch. But I didn't. I stood tall, looking down at the man who had terrified me for years, and realized he was incredibly, patheticially small.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the heavy tactical taser my father had given me, and pressed it directly against Robert's chest.
The blue electrical current surged through him. He convulsed on the floor, his eyes rolling back, until he finally went completely limp, unconscious and utterly defeated.
"It's over, Robert," I whispered.
Meanwhile, my mother had quickly untied Aunt Sarah, who hugged her tightly, sobbing with relief.
Richard Vance lay on the floor, bleeding from his shoulder, staring at my father. "You think you won, Frank? The police will be here in minutes. I have them in my pocket. You'll go to prison for the rest of your life."
My father knelt down beside Richard. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black flash drive.
"This drive contains thirty years of your financial records, Richard," my father said quietly. "Your offshore accounts, your bribes to the police chief, your human trafficking routes. I didn't spend the last twenty-four hours planning a rescue. I spent it downloading your entire life."
Richard’s face went completely grey. "How... how did you get that?"
"You forgot one thing, Richard," my father said, adjusting his silver watch. "I'm a carpenter. I know exactly how to find the hollow spots in a structure. Your empire was built on rotten wood."
My father stood up, taking my mother’s hand in his left, and my hand in his right.
"Let's go home," he said.
EPILOGUESix months later, the smell of fresh cedar filled the air of the backyard workshop.
The morning sun filtered through the dusty windows, lighting up a beautifully carved oak rocking chair. I ran my fingers over the smooth, polished wood, feeling the strength and the patience that went into making it.
The Vance empire was gone. Richard and Robert were serving federal prison sentences with no hope of parole. The corrupt police chief had been indicted, and Martha had used what was left of the clean family assets to set up a foundation for victims of domestic abuse.
I looked up as my father walked into the shop. He carried two mugs of coffee, handing one to me. He looked older, maybe a bit more tired, but his eyes were peaceful.
"How's the grain looking on that oak?" he asked.
"Perfect, Dad," I smiled, taking a sip of the coffee. "It's strong. It’s going to last."
May you like
He smiled, a genuine, warm smile, and looked down at the vintage silver watch on his wrist. He didn't need to take it off anymore. The ghosts of his past were finally laid to rest, and for the first time in my life, I knew exactly who I was.
I was Mia Miller. And I was no longer afraid of the dark.
