Chapter 6 - THE RED WINTER COAT
Victoria Carter stepped into the smoke-filled library with the slow, measured grace of a queen inspecting a ruined kingdom.
“Evelyn,” Victoria said, her voice dry and rasping like dead leaves across pavement. “I always knew you were entirely too fragile for this family. You couldn't even burn paper correctly.”
The four armed men fanned out, securing the room. One of them aimed a suppressed pistol directly at Charles’s chest. Another grabbed Evelyn roughly by the arm, hauling her to her feet.
“Let her go, Victoria!” Charles demanded, stepping in front of Evelyn.
Victoria chuckled, a hollow, terrifying sound. “You always were weak, little brother. Defending the help. Defending the weak. You are a romantic fool who would have given away an empire for a pretty smile.”
She turned her dead eyes toward me.
“And you,” Victoria sneered. “You have your mother’s stubborn, arrogant eyes. I should have made sure the ashes were thoroughly sifted twenty-two years ago.”
“You stole her family’s legacy,” I said, stepping in front of little Leo, shielding his small body with my own.
“I took what was necessary,” Victoria countered smoothly. “The world belongs to those willing to get their hands dirty. Your mother was weak. Her father was weak. And tonight, you will simply disappear, just like them. A tragic accident for a clumsy maid.”
The stakes skyrocketed. Victoria wasn't playing games. She was going to execute us in the library and burn the evidence.
“Take the girl and the boy,” Victoria ordered her men. “The boy’s usefulness as leverage has expired.”
“No!” Evelyn screamed, thrashing against her captor.
One of the men lunged for me. I kicked a heavy brass globe stand into his path, sending him stumbling, but another grabbed my arm, twisting it painfully behind my back. I fought, kicking and scratching, but he was twice my size. He reached for Leo, who was screaming, clutching my apron.
Reversal.
A loud, shattering crash echoed from the front foyer of the mansion.
It sounded like the heavy oak front doors had been kicked open with impossible force. The sound of shouting followed, then the heavy thud of bodies hitting the marble floor.
Victoria frowned, turning toward the open library doors. “What is going on out there?”
The heavy footsteps approached the library.
A figure stepped through the smoke and the doorway.
It wasn't a police officer. It wasn't security.
It was a woman.
She wore a faded, weather-beaten red winter coat. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, falling wildly around a face that bore the unmistakable, pale scars of a severe burn along her left cheek.
She held a heavy, double-barreled shotgun, aiming it squarely at Victoria’s chest.
The room went dead silent.
Charles let out a strangled, breathless sound. He fell to his knees, staring at the woman as if she were an angel descended from heaven.
“Elena,” Charles whispered.
May you like
My mother lowered her hood. Her dark eyes, a perfect mirror of my own, swept the room, taking in Evelyn, Charles, and finally resting on me. A fierce, protective fire burned in her gaze.
“I told you I was sending her for revenge, Victoria,” my mother said, her voice strong and steady. “I just didn't tell you I was coming with her.”
