Chapter 5 - The Grandfather Behind the Bomb
Victor sat in my living room as though he owned it.
Emma was beside him.
Ava and Harper stood near the fireplace.
Four armed men surrounded them.
Victor smiled when I entered.
“My son.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Claire entered behind me.
Victor’s expression changed.
“So you're Claire.”
Claire stared at him.
“And you’re the coward who paid other men to kill his own daughter.”
Ava flinched.
Victor sighed.
“Children shouldn’t hear ugly family business.”
Ava laughed bitterly.
“You shot me.”
“That was an unfortunate mistake.”
“Grandpa?”
Harper looked sick.
“You did this?”
Victor ignored her.
I stepped forward.
“Let Emma go.”
Victor rested his hand on Emma’s shoulder.
She recoiled.
My entire body tightened.
“Take your hand off her.”
Victor smiled.
“Or what?”
“Grandpa.”
Emma’s tiny voice cut through the room.
Victor looked down.
She stared at him.
“I remember you.”
His smile vanished.
Emma’s breathing became faster.
Claire took one careful step.
“Emma, look at me.”
Victor’s guard raised his gun.
“Don’t move.”
Claire stopped.
Emma looked across the room at her.
“Tell us what you remember,” Claire said softly.
Victor snapped, “Quiet.”
Emma trembled.
Then she spoke.
“You were fighting with Mommy.”
Nobody moved.
“You told her Daddy would lose everything.”
Victor stood.
“Enough.”
Emma began crying.
“You put the black bag in the car.”
My stomach turned.
Victor grabbed her.
I raised my pistol.
Four weapons immediately pointed at me.
“Let her go.”
Victor’s face was no longer grandfatherly.
“She was never supposed to be in that car.”
The words struck harder than any bullet.
Ava whispered, “You knew?”
Victor looked at me.
“Isabella was destroying everything our family built.”
“She was your daughter.”
“She chose you.”
“No.”
My voice became quiet.
“She chose our children.”
Victor’s eyes flicked toward Claire.
“And now this woman has my accounts.”
Claire smiled.
“I have more than your accounts.”
She lifted her phone.
“I sent everything out before coming upstairs.”
Victor froze.
“To who?”
“People you can’t buy.”
He lunged for Emma.
Ava moved first.
Despite her injured leg, she shoved a side table into one guard.
Harper grabbed Emma.
Gunfire exploded.
I dropped one man.
My security team breached from the hallway.
Claire threw herself over the girls as glass shattered behind them.
Victor ran.
“Dad!” Ava screamed.
I chased him.
He reached the front foyer.
Outside, police vehicles flooded the drive.
Victor stopped.
He turned toward me.
“You brought police into your own house?”
“No.”
Claire appeared behind me.
“I did.”
Victor stared at her.
“You stupid woman.”
“Maybe.”
She glanced at the flashing lights.
“But I’m alive.”
Victor raised his gun toward Claire.
Emma screamed.
“Claire!”
I fired.
Victor’s weapon dropped from his hand.
He collapsed against the staircase, wounded but alive.
Police rushed inside.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Emma ran past me.
Straight to Claire.
Claire dropped to her knees.
Emma wrapped her arms around her neck.
“You promised.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You stayed.”
“Yes.”
I watched them.
Then Ava came beside me on her crutches.
“You should probably say something.”
“To who?”
She looked at Claire.
“Seriously, Dad?”
Even after being shot, my daughter had attitude.
Some things survived everything.
I walked toward Claire.
She looked up.
“What?”
I held out my hand.
“Thank you.”
She stared at it.
“For what?”
I looked at my three daughters.
May you like
“For bringing them back to me.”
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