Chapter 6 - Blood and Ink
Down by the driveway, the high-society guests were practically running to their luxury SUVs, terrified of being subpoenaed or dragged into a family catastrophe. Within minutes, car doors slammed, engines roared, and the manicured courtyard was left empty save for the six of us.
Marcus Sterling calmly adjusted his glasses, completely unbothered by the domestic meltdown. He closed his briefcase and snapped the locks shut.
"Mr. Warren Vance," Sterling said with bureaucratic precision. "Because the funds involved federally insured accounts and cross-state lines through unauthorized electronic transfers, the bank’s internal fraud division has already forwarded our dossier to the State Attorney’s Office and the local sheriff's department."
Warren’s eyes dilated in pure panic. "Wait... no. No! Marcus, we’ve known each other for years! My father golfed with your managing partner!"
"Your father passed away, Mr. Vance. And bank bylaws do not make exceptions for golf partners," Sterling replied calmly. "Two deputies should be arriving at your front gate within the next ten minutes."
"No!" Darlene shrieked, suddenly dropping to her knees on the patio flagstones. The very stones where she had dragged me by my wrist half an hour earlier. She grabbed Grant’s pant legs, her manicured nails digging into the fabric. "Grant! You can't let them arrest Warren! He’s your brother! If he goes to prison, the Vance name is ruined! You have savings—use your architecture firm’s capital! Call your partners! We can repay the bank before the paperwork is filed!"
Grant looked down at his mother with utter detachment.
"You dragged my wife across these stones, Mom," Grant said, pointing to the raw red burns on my forearms. "You called her a thief. You demanded her brother hand over his life savings to save your precious pride. Did you think about the Vance name then?"
"She’s just a girl from the valley!" Darlene wept, completely unaware of how vile she sounded. "Warren is your blood! Blood comes before everything!"
"Then you can bleed alone," Grant replied, violently shaking his leg free from her grip.
He walked over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist, his touch gentle and protective. I leaned against him, the adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion.
Reid stepped forward, his cold gaze shifting from Warren to Darlene. "My sister gave up two years of her career to help you when you had your hip replacement, Mrs. Vance. She cooked your meals, drove you to physical therapy, and cleaned up after you while your beloved Warren was off blowing your money in Atlantic City. And this is how you repay her?"
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Darlene looked away, unable to meet Reid’s piercing blue eyes.
"Warren," Reid said, his voice low and dangerous. "You have exactly five minutes before the police arrive. If you try to run, I will personally tackle you into that ornamental pond and sit on your chest until the cuffs are on."
