Chapter 5 - The Trap at Blackwater
The silence in the study was deafening. The six armed men lined the room, their guns trained directly on Adrian and Clara.
Adrian didn't look at the guns. He looked at Dominic March with a slow, chilling smile that made even Dominic’s hardened guards shift uncomfortably on their feet.
“You always were impatient, Dominic,” Adrian said softly. “That is why your father never gave you full control of the March territories.”
“Shut up!” Dominic barked, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. “I run this city now! You’re finished, Vale! Hand over the Sterling trust documents, or I’ll blow your brains out right here, put a gun in this maid’s hand, and tell the police you had a domestic dispute!”
“You could try,” Adrian replied smoothly.
Then, Adrian raised two fingers and snapped them twice.
CRASH!
The giant stained-glass windows behind the desk shattered inward as eight elite Vale tactical operatives, dressed in black gear with heavy assault rifles, swung down from ropes attached to the roof. At the exact same second, the hidden side panels of the mahogany study slid open, revealing ten more armed guards led by Adrian’s loyal second-in-command, Marcus.
Within three seconds, every single one of Dominic March’s guards was disarmed, forced onto their knees, and pinned to the floor with laser sights trained on their heads.
Dominic froze, his pistol instantly knocked from his grip by Marcus, who forced Dominic’s arm behind his back and slammed his face hard against the mahogany desk.
Selene gasped in horror, stepping backward into the hallway, but two Vale guards blocked her exit, handcuffing her hands behind her back.
“Did you really think I didn't know you were tracking my courier, Dominic?” Adrian asked, walking slowly over to the desk where Dominic was pinned. He leaned down, speaking directly into the mob boss’s ear. “I’ve known about your embezzlement for six months. I was simply waiting for you to make a move against my family so I could destroy you entirely.”
Dominic spat blood onto the wood, glaring up at Adrian with pure hatred. “This changes nothing! The board of directors won't sign over the shipping line without Thorne’s medical report! And Thorne is hidden where you’ll never find him!”
“Oh, Dr. Thorne?” Adrian smiled darkly. He glanced at Marcus. “Bring him in.”
The heavy study doors opened once more. Two guards dragged Dr. Thorne into the room. The doctor was trembling hysterically, his clothes disheveled, his round face slick with cold sweat.
“A-Adrian! Please!” Dr. Thorne whimpered, falling to his knees. “They forced me! The March family threatened to kill my children if I didn't give her the arsenic! I had no choice!”
“Liar!” Selene shrieked from the hallway.
Adrian walked over to Dr. Thorne, looking down at him with absolute disgust. “You poisoned a motherless child for six years, Harold. You stole her ability to walk. You stole her childhood.”
“I can fix it! I can treat her!” Thorne cried out desperately. “I have the antidote! I can make her walk again!”
“She doesn't need your antidote,” a soft voice came from the doorway.
Everyone in the room turned.
Clara stood near the entrance, holding Julianna’s hand.
Standing beside Clara, gripping her fingers tightly for balance, was nine-year-old Julianna Vale.
She was wearing a pretty yellow dress, her dark hair brushed smoothly over her shoulders. Her legs were trembling, her knees shaking under the weight of her own body—but she was standing on her own two feet.
She took one slow, painful, magnificent step forward into the study. Then another.
The room went deathly silent.
Dominic March stared at the girl, his jaw dropping in absolute disbelief. Selene’s eyes widened in sheer terror. Dr. Thorne looked as if he had seen a ghost returning from the grave.
Julianna stopped beside her father. She looked at Dr. Thorne with a cold, aristocratic dignity that matched Adrian’s.
“I don't need your medicine anymore, Doctor,” Julianna said clearly, her small voice echoing with incredible power through the room. “Clara cured me.”
Adrian looked down at his daughter walking—really walking—and his eyes filled with profound emotion. He dropped to one knee, wrapping his powerful arms around Julianna, pulling her close to his chest.
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“You did it, my brave little girl,” Adrian whispered, his voice thick with tears. “You did it.”
Julianna hugged her father’s neck tightly, then reached out her small hand toward Clara. “We did it together.”
