Chapter 5 - THE VIPER IN THE NEST
"Thomas?" Julian echoed, the name tasting like ash in his mouth.
Thomas Sterling was Richard’s younger brother. Julian’s uncle. The man who had been the family’s chief legal counsel and fixer for three decades. Thomas was the one who had tirelessly—allegedly—searched for Eleanor all these years.
Richard remained on his knees, his thumbs gently brushing over Eleanor’s frantic handwriting. A tear, rare and agonizing, slipped down the old man’s wrinkled cheek.
"My brother," Richard whispered, his voice cracking with a sorrow Julian had never heard before. "Thomas told me he hired the best private investigators in the world. He brought me reports every month. He said Eleanor had moved to Europe. That she didn't want to be found."
"He lied," Julian said, his mind racing. "He kept her hidden. He let Vanessa Vance steal her architectural designs to fund his own private offshore accounts. But why? Thomas is already wealthy."
"Because he doesn't control the legacy," a smooth, chilling voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Julian whipped around.
Standing on the landing, wearing a silk dressing gown and a calm, polite smile, was Uncle Thomas.
"Thomas," Richard growled, struggling to his feet, his sorrow instantly igniting into a blazing, violent rage. "What did you do to my daughter?"
Thomas casually descended the stairs, not looking the least bit threatened. "I protected the family, Richard. Eleanor was weak. She wanted to marry that starving artist, build affordable housing, and give away our fortune to charity. She would have destroyed everything we built."
"So you drove her into the slums?" Julian demanded, stepping between Thomas and little Lily.
"I simply cut off her resources," Thomas sighed, stopping a few steps above them. "I thought a few years of poverty would break her stubbornness. I let Vanessa Vance squeeze her a bit to remind her how cruel the real world is. I expected Eleanor to come crawling back, begging for forgiveness."
"But she didn't," Julian realized. "She fought back."
"She was far too resilient," Thomas admitted, his smile fading into a cold scowl. "And then she had the child. A new heir. A messy complication."
"Where is she, Thomas?" Richard roared, his voice shaking the crystal in the chandelier. "Where is my daughter?!"
Thomas pulled a small, black remote from his pocket. He pressed a button. The heavy iron shutters over the manor's windows slammed shut with a series of loud, metallic clangs. The front door locked with a heavy electronic thud.
"Eleanor caught a terrible fever three weeks ago," Thomas said softly, feigning sympathy. "Her body gave out. A tragic end to a tragic life. I was going to retrieve the child tomorrow and quietly place her in a distant orphanage. But Julian, you just had to play the hero."
Lily whimpered, clutching Julian's leg. "He's the bad man," she whispered. "He's the man who took mommy's medicine away."
Julian’s vision went red. He lunged up the stairs toward his uncle.
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But Thomas casually pulled back his dressing gown, revealing the heavy, black grip of a silenced pistol tucked into his waistband.
"I wouldn't, Julian," Thomas warned. "You see, tonight, there will be a tragic gas leak at Sterling Manor. Such a shame to lose my brother and nephew in one night. But don't worry. I'll take excellent care of the company."
