Chapter 7 - The Lion's DenUpstairs, the heavy front doors creaked open. The distinct sound of expensive leather shoes clicking against the marble foyer echoed through the empty halls.
"Arthur!" a booming, arrogant voice called out. It was Charles Sterling—Arthur’s billionaire father-in-law, a man whose cold, calculated eyes had always looked down on Arthur like an insect. "Are you awake? I need to inspect the estate records. The board is asking questions about the trust fund."
Arthur and Sarah exchanged a single, decisive glance in the dim basement corridor.
"Stay here with Leo," Arthur whispered, his jaw clenched tight. He picked up a heavy iron fireplace poker from the basement rack, testing its weight in his hand.
"Be careful, Arthur," Sarah whispered back. "He isn't alone. He never travels without his private enforcers."
Arthur slipped out of the shadows, moving silently up the stone steps until he reached the edge of the foyer.
Charles Sterling stood under the grand chandelier, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. Behind him stood two towering men in black tactical suits, their hands resting ominously near their holstered weapons.
"Arthur," Charles said, turning around with a sharp, patronizing smirk. "I expected you to be asleep. Where is the maid? I told you to get rid of that trash weeks ago."
May you like
Arthur stepped out of the shadows, the heavy iron poker dragging slowly across the marble floor, producing a grating, metallic screech that made Charles’s security guards instantly tense up.
"She’s right where she belongs, Charles," Arthur said, his voice deadly calm. "And you're right where you belong: right in my trap."
