Chapter 6 - The Unraveling Thread
The early light of dawn began to seep through the tall windows of the living room, casting a gray, cold glow over the shattered remains of the wedding reception.
Nathan sat on the sofa, his head held tightly in both hands. The realization of what he had done—the sheer, monstrous cruelty of his revenge—was slowly breaking through his wall of obsession, leaving him shattered and hollow.
"What... what have I done?" Nathan whispered, his voice cracking into a raw, pitiful sob. "I scared her... Mom, I backed her into a corner and read Camille's note to her... I told her she was a monster..."
"You hurt her deeply, Nathan," Henri said sternly, stepping over to his son and placing a heavy, unyielding hand on his shoulder. "And apologies won't fix this. You let your desire for vengeance blind you to the truth."
Suddenly, the quiet of the morning was shattered by the loud, aggressive rumble of a heavy engine pulling into the gravel driveway outside.
Car doors slammed shut with violent force.
Marguerite walked quickly to the window, pulling back the sheer white curtains.
A sleek, black European sedan was parked right outside the front porch. Stepping out of the driver's side was a burly, thick-necked man in a dark suit—Harrison Vance’s personal security chief, a man named Marcus whom Marguerite had met briefly at the reception.
And behind him, stepping out of the rear door with an umbrella over his arm and an expression of cold, imperious authority, was Harrison Vance himself.
"Why is he here?" Gérard asked, stepping up behind Marguerite, his brow furrowed in deep concern.
Before anyone could answer, the heavy oak front door rattled violently under a series of loud, demanding knocks.
Henri walked into the hallway, pulling the door open six inches. "Harrison? What is the meaning of this? It's five in the morning."
Harrison Vance did not wait for an invitation. He pushed the door open effortlessly, stepping into the foyer with Marcus hovering right behind his shoulder like an imposing shadow.
Harrison adjusted his gold cufflinks, his sharp eyes scanning the living room before settling on Nathan's disheveled appearance.
"Where is my daughter?" Harrison demanded, his voice smooth, cold, and entirely lacking any paternal warmth.
"She is resting upstairs," Marguerite said, stepping forward to stand beside her husband, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "She had a very exhausting night, Harrison."
Harrison let out a short, dismissive breath. "I received an anonymous text message an hour ago containing a digital copy of an old university disciplinary file regarding Camille Dubois." He narrowed his eyes, glaring directly at Nathan. "It seems my new son-in-law has been digging through old trash."
Nathan stood up slowly from the sofa, his eyes burning with a mixture of shame and sudden, protective fury. "You stole those blueprints, didn't you?"
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Harrison smiled—a terrifying, predatory smile that made the blood run cold in Marguerite’s veins.
"I am a businessman, young man," Harrison said smoothly, taking a slow step further into the hallway. "And I don't permit small-town engineers or fragile little girls to ruin twenty-year business empires. Élise is coming with me. Now."
