Chapter 5 - Bloodlines and Betrayal"What did you say?" I choked out, my voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears.
Julian’s smile widened, sadistic and cold. "Oh, didn't you know, Dela? Six months ago, you weren't just a random file runner at St. Jude’s. You were the anonymous, high-end gestational carrier contracted by our family legal trust to bear an heir for Antoine. Only, my dear cousin’s wife wanted a child of her own to secure the primary inheritance. When she found out you were carrying triplets, she tried to back out of the contract and have you quietly dismissed."
Antoine didn't flinch, but his eyes turned black as obsidian. "You killed my wife, Julian. Not an accident. You."
"She was going to expose the financial embezzlement I ran through the shipping ports to cover my gambling debts," Julian sneered, raising the barrel of the gun directly toward Antoine’s chest. "She threatened to tell you everything the night she died. So, I cut her brakes, and I made sure the hospital nurses pumped you full of amnesiac sedatives, Dela, so you’d forget you ever gave birth to those three children."
Julian’s finger tightened on the trigger.
"Say goodbye, cousin. Once you're gone, the board will hand me total control of the Maro syndicate, and the little motherless triplets will be legally placed under my custody as their nearest surviving relative."
He fired.
The sharp thip of the silenced gunshot cut through the air.
At the exact microsecond Julian pulled the trigger, Antoine moved with terrifying, inhuman speed. He didn't duck; he lunged forward, grabbing Julian’s wrist and driving it upward. The bullet missed Antoine’s shoulder by a millimeter, embedding itself deep into the plaster ceiling.
With a bone-crunching twist, Antoine slammed Julian’s arm downward. The pistol clattered loudly against the hardwood floor.
Before Julian could recover, Antoine’s fist connected with his jaw with the force of a wrecking ball. Julian crashed backward over the edge of the low mahogany table, sending splintered wood flying in every direction.
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Before Julian could even groan, Donovan and four heavily armed enforcers swarmed into the room, pinning Julian face down to the floor with heavy combat boots resting on his neck.
Antoine stood breathing heavily, his knuckles bruised and bleeding. He slowly turned around, walking back toward me through the wreckage of the room.
