Chapter 5 - The Kidnapping Attempt and the Ultimate Sacrifice
It was Pierce.
The twelve-year-old had climbed through the attic ventilation shafts when he heard the gunshot in the kitchen. He had scrambled through the tight spaces, determined to protect the woman who had promised not to leave them.
"Get off me, you little brat!" Marcus screamed, spinning around in circles as Pierce bit down hard on his shoulder, his hands clawing at Marcus’s face.
"Run, Lucy! Run!" Pierce yelled.
Marcus slammed his back against the wall, knocking the breath out of Pierce. The boy loosed his grip and slid to the floor, gasping for air. Marcus kicked him in the ribs, sending the twelve-year-old sliding across the polished hardwood.
"Pierce!" Lucy cried out.
The maternal instinct that had been buried deep within Lucy for over a decade ignited into a raging fire. She didn't think about the gun. She didn't think about her own safety. She grabbed a heavy iron easel standing nearby and swung it with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The metal base struck Marcus across the jaw. He spun around, his eyes rolling back as the gun flew from his hand, clattering out the window that had been shattered by the storm. Marcus collapsed to the floor, completely unconscious.
Lucy dropped the easel, her hands shaking violently. She rushed over to Pierce, pulling him into her arms. "Pierce! Oh my god, Pierce, look at me. Are you okay? Talk to me, sweetheart."
Pierce coughed, clutching his ribs, but he looked up at her with a fierce, defiant smile. "I hit him pretty good, didn't I?"
"You were incredibly brave," Lucy wept, pressing her forehead against his. "But you should not have done that. You could have been killed."
"You said you wouldn't leave us," Pierce whispered, tears finally breaking through his tough exterior. "I couldn't let him take you away."
Before Lucy could reply, a loud crash echoed from downstairs. The sound of heavy footsteps hurried up the main staircase.
"Lucy! Pierce! Kids!"
It was Grant’s voice.
His flight had been grounded due to the massive storm, and when he couldn't reach the house or Martha by phone, a strange, overwhelming dread had consumed him. He had driven through the torrential rain, racing back to the mansion that he had spent two years avoiding.
Grant burst into the room, his clothes soaked, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Marcus unconscious on the floor, the shattered room, and Lucy holding his eldest son tightly against her chest.
"What happened here?" Grant demanded, rushing to his knees beside them. "Pierce, are you hurt?"
"Dad..." Pierce choked out, reaching out a hand toward his father—something he hadn't done since the day of the accident.
Grant caught his son's hand, his chest heaving as he pulled Pierce into his arms, wrapping his large frame around both the boy and Lucy. For the first time in two years, the cold, distant millionaire was gone. In his place was a terrified father who realized he had almost lost everything all over again.
"It was Victoria and Marcus," Lucy said, her voice trembling but clear. "They killed Emily, Grant. They cut the brakes on her car two years ago. And they came back tonight to finish the job and take the children."
Grant’s face turned into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. He looked at the unconscious Marcus, then at the silver lockbox resting near the portrait of his late wife.
"They will never touch my family again," Grant growled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying power.
Suddenly, a cold voice spoke from the doorway.
"I’m afraid you're too late, Grant."
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Victoria Vance stood there, holding a second firearm, her face twisted into a maniacal grin. She looked at her unconscious son with disdain. "Marcus was always a fool. But I am not. Give me the lockbox, Grant. Sign over the guardianship documents on my phone right now, or I will kill all three of you and blame it on the intruder."
CRITICAL CLIFFHANGER: Victoria raised the weapon, pointing it directly at Grant’s head. But before anyone could move, a sudden flash of headlights illuminated the shattered window from the driveway below. The sound of police sirens wailed in the distance, cutting through the thunder. Victoria panicked, her finger tightening on the trigger. “If I’m going down, I’m taking your legacy with me!” she screamed, aiming at Pierce. Lucy didn't hesitate. She threw her body over the boy just as a shot rang out.
