Chapter 8 - The Falling of the Veil
Nathaniel stopped. His eyes flicked from Ruby to Victor, and then to the silver ring sitting on the desk.
The silence in the basement was absolute, broken only by the hum of the servers. The billionaire’s face went through a series of rapid, terrifying changes—from confusion, to denial, and finally, to a cold, murderous realization.
“Victor,” Nathaniel said, his voice dropping so low it was almost a whisper. “Is this true?”
“She’s lying, boss,” Victor said, not lowering the gun. “She’s a broke girl from Bridgeport who is trying to blackmail you. She found some old files and—”
“I know my wife’s handwriting, Victor,” Nathaniel interrupted, his eyes locked on the leather journal Ruby was still holding. “And I know my wife’s car didn't lose its brakes because of a rusty line. I built this empire. I know how things are done. But I did not authorize her death.”
“She was going to destroy us, Nathaniel!” Victor snapped, his professional veneer finally cracking to reveal the monster underneath. “She had the files on the New Jersey route! If she had gone to the Feds, you would be spending the rest of your life in a federal penitentiary, and the syndicate would have lost billions! I did what had to be done to protect the family!”
“You killed my wife,” Nathaniel said. He took a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides. “And you made my son a prisoner in his own home.”
“I saved your empire!” Victor roared, his finger tightening on the trigger. “And if I have to kill you too to keep it safe, I will. The syndicate answers to the New York families now, Nathaniel. Not to you. You’ve grown soft.”
Before Victor could pull the trigger, Ollie moved.
The five-year-old boy, who had been silent for two years, let out a sharp, piercing scream. He didn't run away. Instead, he grabbed the heavy silver ring from the desk and threw it with all his might directly at Victor's face.
The heavy metal ring hit Victor in the eye.
He gasped, his head jerking back, and his first shot went wild, shattering one of the computer monitors in a shower of blue sparks.
Nathaniel lunged.
Despite his expensive suit and his age, the billionaire moved with the raw, brutal speed of a man who had fought his way up from the streets of New York. He slammed into Victor, his weight throwing both of them against the heavy server rack.
The gun fired again, the sound deafening in the enclosed concrete space.
Ruby didn't wait to see who won. She grabbed Ollie, pulling him into her arms, and ran toward the stairs. She didn't look back as she heard the violent, meat-and-bone sounds of the struggle behind them.
She reached the top of the stairs, her breath tearing in her lungs, and pushed through the iron door into the nursery.
The hallway outside was filled with smoke. The bullet that had shattered the monitor downstairs had sparked a fire in the server wiring, and the old wood of the mansion was already beginning to catch.
“Ruby!”
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She turned to see Mrs. Ashcroft standing at the end of the corridor, her face pale beneath the smoke. In her hand, she held a heavy iron poker from the library fireplace.
“You’re not leaving,” the house manager whispered, her eyes wild with madness. “If this house burns, we all burn with it.”
