Chapter 6 - THE FIRE
“Adrian!”
The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
The boathouse was an inferno.
Flames licked the sky, reflecting violently across the black surface of the lake.
I stood up, pulling Leo with me.
“Stay here,” I ordered Camille, my voice shaking with an authority I didn’t know I had.
She was huddled in the corner, staring at the fire with wide, manic eyes.
“He’s dead,” she whispered. “They’re both dead.”
“Shut up.”
I grabbed Leo’s hand and ran out the front door.
The heat hit us before we even reached the edge of the grass.
The wooden structure of the boathouse was collapsing inward, the dry timber feeding the unnatural blue-orange flames of an accelerant. Gasoline.
“Dad!” Leo screamed, pulling against my grip to run toward the fire.
I held him back tightly. “No, Leo! It’s too hot!”
I scanned the tree line, my eyes stinging from the thick black smoke.
“Adrian!”
Nothing.
Only the roar of the fire.
Despair hit me like a physical blow.
If Adrian had gone inside… if he had tried to break through the locked doors…
Then, a shadow moved near the water's edge.
Someone was dragging something out of the shallow water.
I ran closer, dragging Leo behind me.
It was Adrian.
His shirt was scorched, his face covered in soot, and he was gasping for air.
But he wasn’t alone.
He was pulling another man onto the muddy bank.
A man with dark hair, a jagged scar above his left eyebrow, and a silver ring with a black stone on his hand.
Marcus.
“Dad!” Leo broke free from my grip and sprinted to the mud, throwing his arms around Marcus’s wet chest.
Marcus coughed violently, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms tightly around the boy.
“I’ve got you, Leo,” Marcus choked out, kissing the top of his son’s head. “I’m here. I’m here.”
Adrian collapsed backward onto the mud, staring up at the rain falling from the night sky.
I ran to him and dropped to my knees.
“You’re alive,” I sobbed, pressing my hands against his chest to feel his heartbeat.
Adrian reached up and covered my hand with his.
His palm was blistered, but his grip was strong.
“I told you,” he rasped, looking into my eyes. “I protect what’s mine.”
I couldn't help it. I leaned down and pressed my forehead against his shoulder, letting out a breath I felt like I had been holding for two years.
“Get up,” Marcus’s voice cut through the emotional moment. It was harsh. Urgent.
Marcus was already standing, holding Leo behind his leg.
He looked at Adrian, his eyes hard and unreadable.
“We have about five minutes before her backup arrives,” Marcus said.
Adrian sat up, wincing as he brushed the soot from his face.
He stared at his older brother. The brother he had buried eleven years ago.
“Who?” Adrian asked, his voice dangerously calm. “Who is coming?”
Marcus pointed toward the driveway.
Through the trees, we could see the glow of headlights approaching. Not one car. At least four.
“Her father’s men,” Marcus said.
Adrian frowned. “Dr. Laurent is dead. He died of a stroke five years ago.”
Marcus let out a bitter, blood-chilling laugh.
“You really believed that? The Laurent family has been running the northern syndicate ever since they took me.”
Marcus looked at me, then down at the worn rosary hanging from my fingers.
“Your mother was a brave woman, Hannah,” Marcus said softly.
I froze. “You know my mother?”
“She saved my life eleven years ago,” Marcus said. “She was supposed to take me to the train station. She was smuggling me out.”
Marcus looked back at Adrian.
“Our father didn’t order my murder, Adrian. Our uncle did. With Laurent’s help. They drugged me, faked the car crash, and locked me in the sublevel of St. Jude’s to keep me out of the succession line.”
Adrian’s face twisted in fury. “And Camille?”
“Camille was raised to finish the job,” Marcus spat. “Marry you, merge the assets, and kill you on your honeymoon.”
The sound of tires crunching on gravel grew louder.
The cars were stopping outside the house.
Car doors slammed.
Heavy boots hit the ground.
We were completely unarmed. Adrian had dropped his gun in the house when he ran for the fire.
“We need to hide,” I panicked, looking around the open mudbank.
“No,” Adrian said, standing up to his full height.
He didn’t look like a wounded man anymore.
He looked like the head of the Romano family.
He reached into his soaked pocket and pulled out his phone.
He pressed a single button.
“Evan,” Adrian spoke into the phone.
“In position, sir,” a voice crackled through the speaker.
Suddenly, the woods erupted in blinding white light.
Floodlights strapped to the trees snapped on all at once, illuminating the entire front lawn of the lake house.
Dozens of black tactical vans were parked in a wide circle around the four syndicate cars.
Over fifty armed guards wearing Romano security vests stepped out of the shadows, weapons raised.
They had completely surrounded the Laurent men.
May you like
Adrian turned to Marcus.
“Did you really think I’d come to the lake house without my army?”
