Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Courtyard
The rain had stopped by late afternoon, leaving the streets of Portland slick and gleaming under the pale, watery autumn sun.
Back at the mansion, the heavy police presence had finally withdrawn following confirmation of the federal injunction. The estate was quiet—too quiet. The storm had broken in the corporate world, but in the physical world, enemies driven to desperation are often at their most dangerous.
Grace sat at the kitchen island, helping Lily color in her new sketchpad while Rosa Martinez—who had returned that morning with a warm smile and a basket of fresh groceries—brewed a pot of chamomile tea.
"Look, Mommy! I drew a house!" Lily said proudly, holding up a crayon drawing of a bright yellow house with no fences, no gates, and a giant sun smiling in the corner.
Grace smiled, her heart swelling with a bittersweet ache. "It's beautiful, sweetheart. Just like our new home."
From the hallway, the heavy front door clicked open.
Footsteps echoed softly on the hardwood.
Grace stiffened, her hand freezing over the box of crayons. "Nathan?" she called out, standing up slowly.
There was no answer.
Instead, a tall, slender shadow detached itself from the hallway archway.
Victoria Ashford stood in the doorway.
She looked entirely unhinged. Her trench coat was wet at the hem, her hair slightly disheveled, and her right hand was tucked deep inside the pocket of her coat. Gone was the cool, untouchable corporate heiress; in her place was a cornered animal with nothing left to lose.
Rosa gasped, dropping a ceramic mug onto the tile floor where it shattered into a hundred white pieces.
"Get away from them," Rosa hissed, stepping instinctively between Victoria and the little girl.
Victoria didn't even look at Rosa. Her ice-blue eyes were fixed entirely on Grace, and more specifically, on Lily cowering slightly behind Grace’s skirt.
"You think you won," Victoria whispered, her voice trembling with manic intensity. "You think because the board caved and the federal agents are sniffing around my accounts that I'm just going to walk away and let a nameless nobody and a bastard child inherit everything my family spent forty years buying?"
Grace’s hand slid into her uniform pocket, her fingers closing around her heavy brass keys like a makeshift weapon. "It's over, Victoria. The police are looking for you right now. Your father's lies are out in the open."
"My father was a visionary!" Victoria screamed, taking a sharp step forward. Her hand came out of her coat pocket.
She wasn't holding a hockey stick this time.
She was holding a heavy, black-steel Walther PPK pistol.
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Lily let out a sharp, terrified cry, burying her face against Grace’s hip.
"If I can't have the empire," Victoria laughed softly, a high, terrifying sound, "then there won't be an heir left to claim it. No child. No bloodline. Nothing."
