Chapter 110 - The Value of a Promise
"You're never touching Emma," I said, every muscle in my body coiled to strike, even knowing the odds were impossible.
"I won't have to," Chloe sneered. "Clara is her biological mother. The court order is already drawn up. Once I eliminate you, Clara takes custody, signs the trust documents over to my management corporation, and Emma gets shipped off to a boarding school in Switzerland where she won't ever be an inconvenience again. Just like you should have been."
"She isn't an inconvenience," I whispered, the rage inside me reaching absolute zero. "She is the only decent thing this family ever produced."
From outside the cottage, a low, rhythmic sound began to vibrate through the floorboards.
Chloe frowned, glancing toward the window. "What is that?"
The sound wasn't the siren of state police cruisers. It was the deep, thunderous chop of twin rotors cutting through the low coastal clouds. A military-grade searchlight suddenly tore through the windows of the cottage, bathing the room in an unbearable, blinding white glare.
A voice bellowed from an external loudspeaker hovering fifty feet above the estate’s lawn:
*"Chloe Vance. Step away from the weapons. The United States Coast Guard Tactical Law Enforcement Team has secured the perimeter under Maritime Security Directive 104."*
Chloe’s smug smile vanished, replaced by an expression of sheer terror. "What? How? Miller said the maritime corridor was clear!"
"Miller didn't take your wire, Chloe," I said, a slow, cold grin breaking across my face despite the pain in my chest. "I didn't call the Columbia precinct. Arthur's ledger didn't just have Miller’s number—it had the personal red-line for the Special Agent in Charge of the Charleston Coast Guard Investigative Service. The people Arthur short-changed when his fuel barges exploded in the harbor."
The contractor to Chloe’s right took a half-step back, lowering his rifle. "We're out, Miss Vance. This isn't local cops. That's TACLET. We engage them, we get federal treason charges."
"You stay where you are!" Chloe screamed, her voice cracking as the glass in the windows began to rattle violently under the rotor wash. "I pay your salaries!"
May you like
"Not anymore," I said, lunging forward.
***
