Chapter 8 - The Snake’s Last Strike
Six months passed. My son Leo was growing healthy and strong, and I had officially taken my place as the Chief Executive Officer of Harrington Global, managing our vast philanthropic foundations.
Santiago had been serving his prison sentence, but evil rarely dies quietly.
On a rainy Tuesday night, while I was reviewing financial reports in my private study at the estate, the emergency alarm suddenly blared red across the mansion walls.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The lights flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Backup generators kicked in two seconds later, casting eerie amber shadows across the hallway.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I sprinted toward the nursery. "Leo!"
I burst into the nursery to find the nanny unconscious on the floor and the window shattered. Standing near the crib, holding my crying six-month-old baby, was Santiago—gaunt, dressed in dark clothes, his eyes bloodshot and unhinged. He had escaped during a prison transport transfer with the help of paid mercenaries.
"Don't move, Clara!" Santiago hissed, pointing a pistol directly at me while holding Leo tightly against his chest. "You took everything from me! My money, my pride, my freedom!"
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"Santiago, put him down," I begged, stepping forward, every maternal instinct screaming inside me. "He's just a baby! Take whatever money you want, just don't hurt him!"
"Money won't fix my life now!" Santiago laughed hysterically. "I'm a ruined man! But if I take his life, I ruin yours forever!"
