Chapter 6 - Blood in the Shadows
I arrived back at the Brookline mansion just as twilight turned the sky into bruised purple. The mansion was eerily quiet. Usually, two guards patrolled the perimeter gravel, but the driveway was completely deserted.
I slipped through the heavy iron garden gate. The smell of copper hit my nostrils before I even reached the kitchen door.
*Blood.*
I pushed open the service door. The kitchen lights were off, but the amber glow from the hallway cast long, jagged shadows across the tile floor. Lying near the pantry was Julian, Gideon's loyal personal driver, his chest stained with crimson, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
A cold wave of panic rushed through my veins.
Marcus had made his move.
I drew a small scalpel from my coat pocket and crept down the hallway toward the study. The heavy oak doors were cracked open. Inside, a low murmur of voices broke the silence.
"You should have signed the power of attorney yesterday, Gideon," Marcus's voice purred with cruel amusement. "Now you’re making this messy. And you know how much I hate messy."
I peered through the crack.
Gideon was bound to his leather chair with heavy zip-ties, his white dress shirt torn at the shoulder, a cut bleeding above his eyebrow. Three armed men in dark suits flanked him, semi-automatic pistols pointed at his chest.
Marcus stood in front of him, casually holding a heavy revolver in one hand and a stack of legal transfer documents in the other.
"You've been slipping for months, brother," Marcus said, clicking his tongue. "The families don't want a blind don. They want someone who can see the future. I built this empire with you. I just took what I deserved."
Gideon didn't look broken. Even tied down, bleeding, with impaired vision, his presence filled the room like a gathering storm. He let out a low, dark laugh.
"You didn't build anything, Marcus," Gideon said evenly. "You scraped up the crumbs I dropped from the table. And you had to poison my glass like a coward because you were too terrified to face me like a man."
May you like
Marcus’s smirk vanished, replaced by a sudden, ugly snarl. He stepped forward and shoved the barrel of his revolver directly against Gideon's forehead.
"Who told you?" Marcus hissed. "Was it the girl? Where is that little rat?"
