Chapter 6 - The Fall of the House of Vance
Panic erupted inside the Vance Private Club.
Socialites scrambled toward the exits; champagne flutes shattered on the marble floor, and news cameras—which had managed to bypass perimeter security—flashed frantically from the entrance hall.
Senator Richard Vance tried to pull his political rank. “Do you know who I am?” he shouted as a federal agent forced his arms behind his heavy back. “I am a United States Senator! I will have your badges by midnight!”
“You’re an inmate, Senator,” the Special Agent replied coldly, clicking the steel cuffs tightly over his wrists. “Read him his rights.”
Julian, however, didn't go quietly.
With a desperate, animalistic roar, Julian broke away from the agent trying to grab his shoulder. He reached into his tuxedo jacket, pulling out a small, snub-nosed silver revolver he had smuggled past the club's metal detectors.
“You destroyed everything!” Julian screamed, pointing the barrel directly at Arthur’s chest.
Women shrieked. Guests dove behind velvet sofas.
Without a second of hesitation, Arthur stepped in front of me and Bella, covering us entirely with his massive body.
“Drop the gun, Julian,” Arthur said softly. His eyes were completely fearless.
“I’m going to kill you, Sterling!” Julian sobbed, his hand shaking violently on the trigger. “I’m going to take you to hell with me!”
CLICK.
Before Julian could pull the trigger, a shadow detached itself from the side pillar.
Marcus moved like a strike of lightning. He grabbed Julian’s wrist, twisting it upward with a sickening CRACK.
Julian screamed in pain as the revolver fired harmlessly into the gilded ceiling, dislodging a rain of plaster and crystal fragments from the chandelier. Marcus slammed Julian face-first onto the marble floor, driving his knee into the back of his neck and securing his hands in heavy zip-ties within three seconds flat.
“Target secured,” Marcus said calmly, looking up at Arthur.
The room fell into an awed, terrified silence.
The federal agents quickly dragged the sobbing Senator and his broken son out through the front doors, past the roaring crowd of press reporters.
Arthur didn't look at the chaos. He turned around instantly, grabbing my arms, his dark eyes frantically scanning my face and body.
“Are you hurt? Did any glass hit you?” he demanded, his hands trembling slightly against my arms.
“I’m fine, Arthur,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. “We’re okay. Bella is okay.”
Bella reached out, taking my bandaged hand in hers and holding it tight.
Arthur let out a long, ragged breath. In front of three hundred of New York’s highest society members, the formidable Chairman of Sterling Heavy Industries lifted his hands and gently cupped my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones.
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“You were brilliant tonight, Sarah,” he murmured, his voice thick with raw emotion.
I blushed, looking up into his dark, intense eyes. For the first time, I didn't see the grieving widower or the cold billionaire. I saw a man who was looking at me as if I were the only light left in his world.
