Chapter 7 - The Inheritance of BloodThe heavy oak doors swung open, letting in a swirl of freezing wind and snow.
Standing on the threshold was Julian Vance. He wasn't holding a rifle. In his right hand, he held a sleek, black remote detonator. In his left hand, he held a glass cylinder filled with a glowing, pale blue liquid.
"Did you really think I didn't keep the master override codes to our father's house, Victoria?" Julian said, his scarred face twisted into a victorious grin as he stepped into the foyer.
Behind him, four survivalist mercenaries slipped into the room, their weapons raised and sweeping the space.
Victoria sat upright on the couch, her face drained of all color. "Julian... what is that?"
"Father's final project," Julian replied, holding up the glass cylinder. "You thought he was just breeding attack wolves? He was developing aerosolized nerve agents for private buyers. This little vial contains enough toxic vapor to liquidate every living tissue in this room within thirty seconds."
Elena cowered against the wall. "Julian, please! I did everything you asked! I got you inside!"
Julian didn't even glance at her. "You failed, Elena. You let them reach the estate. You're loose end."
Alex slowly raised his pistol, aiming it directly at Julian's chest. "Drop the remote, Julian. I swear to God I'll put a bullet through your heart."
Julian laughed—a dry, terrifying sound. "Go ahead, Alex. Shoot me. My thumb is holding down a dead-man's switch on this detonator. The moment my heart stops, the explosive charges planted beneath the floorboards detonate, breaking this glass vial. We all die together."
Silence fell over the grand foyer. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the stench of copper, sweat, and impending death.
Alex's hands trembled on the grip of the gun. He looked at Julian's scarred, ruthless face. He looked at Victoria, the woman who had tried to abandon him to freeze in the dark. He looked at Elena, the woman who had used his lust to tear his life apart.
Every single person in this room was a monster.
"You want the estate, Julian?" Alex said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You want the money?"
"I want what's mine," Julian spat.
"Take it," Alex said.
And with a sudden, decisive motion, Alex lowered his gun and tossed it across the marble floor. It slid smoothly, stopping right at Julian's boots.
Julian blinked, momentarily taken aback by Alex's sudden surrender. "A sensible coward to the very end."
"Not a coward," Alex whispered, stepping backward toward the kitchen hallway behind him. "Just someone who knows how to read the floor plans."
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Before Julian could react, Alex slammed his foot down onto a brass pressure plate hidden beneath the foyer rug—a emergency security trapdoor Victoria had mentioned during their first year of marriage when showing off the mansion's architectural history.
The marble floor beneath Julian and his mercenaries collapsed inward.
