Chapter 2 - The Sapphire Coat

The smoke inside the ruined post office swirled around us like gray ghosts.

Daniel looked horrific. His expensive gala tuxedo was torn and covered in soot. He was shaking violently, the barrel of the shotgun wavering slightly as he kept it aimed squarely at Nathaniel’s chest.

“Daniel, don’t do this,” I pleaded, clutching the heavy waterproof case against my chest. “You don’t have to die for Grant Holloway.”

“I’m not dying for anyone!” Daniel screamed, his voice cracking with panic. “Grant promised me a seat on the board! He promised me Madeline! If I don’t walk out of here with that drive, he’ll kill me himself!”

Nathaniel remained perfectly still, kneeling behind the collapsed brick wall. He didn’t reach for his weapon. His gray eyes were locked on Daniel with terrifying calm.

“Grant is playing you, Daniel,” Nathaniel said smoothly, his voice cutting through the distant crackle of gunfire outside. “Madeline came to my estate an hour ago. She offered to sell you out for the key. You’re a scapegoat. When you hand them that drive, they’re going to put a bullet in your head and blame the explosion on you.”

Daniel flinched. The doubt was clear on his soot-stained face. He knew how Blackridge operated.

“He’s lying!” Daniel shouted, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He racked the shotgun loudly. “Slide the case across the floor, Emma. Now!”

I looked at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel gave me a microscopic nod.

I slowly knelt down, placing the Pelican case on the rubble-strewn floor. I pushed it forward. It slid across the dust, stopping a few feet from Daniel’s boots.

Daniel let out a breathless, triumphant laugh. He took one hand off the shotgun to reach down for the case.

It was the mistake Nathaniel was waiting for.

With speed that defied his size, Nathaniel lunged. He didn’t go for the gun—he grabbed a fist-sized brick from the rubble and hurled it with lethal precision.

The brick struck Daniel squarely in the face.

Daniel screamed, dropping the shotgun as blood erupted from his broken nose. He stumbled backward into the shattered mailboxes.

Nathaniel was on him in a second. He grabbed Daniel by the collar, slamming him brutally against the brick wall.

“You broke into her apartment,” Nathaniel snarled, his fist connecting with Daniel’s ribs. A sickening crack echoed in the room. “You terrified my son.”

Daniel collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, curling into a pathetic ball. “Please... please don’t kill me. Madeline made me do it!”

Nathaniel drew his sidearm, pointing it down at the man who had humiliated me hours earlier.

“Don’t,” I said, stepping forward, grabbing Nathaniel’s arm.

Nathaniel looked at me, his eyes burning with a dark, violent protective rage.

“He isn’t worth the bullet,” I said quietly, looking down at Daniel in disgust. “Let him live knowing he gave up everything for people who threw him away.”

Nathaniel stared at me for a long moment. Slowly, he lowered the weapon.

He reached down, grabbing the Pelican case, and grabbed my hand. “Let’s move.”

We sprinted out of the crumbling building, dodging through the snow as Pinehaven guards laid down suppressing fire against the remaining Blackridge mercenaries. We threw ourselves into the back of the armored transport.

“Go! Go!” Marcus yelled from the driver’s seat.

The heavy truck roared to life, tires spinning in the snow before catching traction and tearing out of Silver Creek.

I slumped against the metal wall of the transport, my lungs burning. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, leaving me shaking uncontrollably.

Nathaniel sat across from me. He placed the heavy Pelican case on the floorboard and popped the latches.

Inside, sitting on a bed of custom foam, was a single, encrypted hard drive. And nestled beside it was a stack of yellowed, original paper deeds.

Nathaniel picked up the top deed and handed it to me.

I turned on the overhead cargo light.

Property of Margaret Parker. White-Pine Valley.

It was real. The land, the wealth, the legacy Blackridge had built their entire empire on—it belonged to my mother. It belonged to me and Leo.

“With this drive, I can dismantle the Blackridge alliance by morning,” Nathaniel said, his voice exhausted but triumphant. “Grant Holloway will be arrested for fraud, embezzlement, and conspiracy to commit murder. The syndicates will devour him.”

I looked at the deed, a tear sliding down my cheek. My mother had died thinking she was a failure. My sister had died trying to prove her right.

And now, we had won.

But as the armored truck rumbled down the mountain pass, my phone—which had been silent in my dress pocket all night—suddenly vibrated.

I pulled it out.

It was a video message from an unknown number.

I tapped play.

The screen showed the living room of Nathaniel’s secure estate. The room was chaotic. Furniture overturned.

Sitting in the center of the room, tied to a chair with blood running down the side of his face, was one of Nathaniel’s top guards.

And standing behind him, holding a terrifyingly calm, sleeping Leo in her arms, was Madeline Cross.

She looked directly into the camera.

“Did you really think a few guards could stop my father’s private army, Nathaniel?” Madeline smiled coldly. “I want the drive. And I want the deeds. Meet me at the Blackridge Timber Mill in thirty minutes. Come alone. Bring the girl. If you call the police, or if you bring your men...”

She stroked Leo’s hair with her diamond-covered hand.

“...the little bastard goes into the woodchipper.”

The video ended.

I couldn’t breathe. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the metal floor of the truck.

Nathaniel picked it up. He watched the video.

When he looked up, the man sitting across from me was gone.

In his place was a monster. A father who had just watched his son taken by his worst enemy.