Chapter 7: The Target on Her Back
When Emily opened her eyes, she was staring at an ornate, hand-painted fresco on a vaulted ceiling. She was lying in a massive, four-poster bed covered in silk sheets.
She bolted upright, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was back at the Vance estate, in the master suite.
"Easy," a deep, calming voice said from the shadows.
Daniel emerged from a velvet armchair near the fireplace. He had stripped off his tuxedo jacket and bowtie, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked exhausted, yet fiercely alert.
"What happened?" Emily choked out, gripping the silk sheets. "The gala... your grandmother... Sinclair?"
Daniel walked over to the bed and handed her a glass of water. His fingers brushed against hers, lingering for a fraction of a second. "You fainted. The press went into an absolute frenzy. The Sinclair estate has been frozen in trust for two decades. Everyone assumed the bloodline died out when your mother’s car went off that bridge."
"My mother didn't die in a car crash," Emily said, her voice shaking. "She died of pneumonia when I was twelve. We were living in a trailer park in Ohio. We had nothing, Daniel. She worked three jobs just to buy my brother's asthma medication."
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, his expression softening into something dangerously close to tenderness. "She was running, Emily. My grandmother explained it while you were unconscious. Your uncle, Richard Sinclair, tried to seize the company. He orchestrated the crash. Your mother survived, grabbed you, and vanished into the wind to keep you safe."
Emily felt a tear slip down her cheek. "All those years. The hunger. The debt. The fear. She did it to hide us from him?"
"Yes," Daniel said softly, wiping the tear from her cheek with his thumb. The intimacy of the gesture made Emily’s breath catch. "But you're not hiding anymore. The Sinclair lawyers have already been contacted. A DNA test will be expedited by morning. But Emily... this changes everything."
"The contract," Emily whispered, suddenly remembering the two million dollars she had signed away her life for.
"To hell with the contract," Daniel said sharply, his eyes darkening. "Do you understand the danger you're in? Your uncle Richard is still alive. He is still on the Sinclair board. When he sees the morning news, he will know the rightful heir to his stolen throne has returned. He will come for you."
Before Emily could process the weight of his words, Daniel’s phone buzzed aggressively. He glanced at the caller ID, and his jaw locked. He answered it, putting it on speaker.
"Daniel Vance," he snapped.
"Mr. Vance, this is St. Jude's Medical Center," a frantic nurse's voice crackled through the speaker. "It's about Leo Thorne. Emily's brother."
Emily threw the covers off, her blood turning to ice. "What is it? Is Leo okay?!"
"He's in distress," the nurse said quickly. "Someone accessed his VIP suite twenty minutes ago claiming to be family. When the night nurse went in to check his vitals, his oxygen lines had been cut. He's coding, Mr. Vance. We're doing everything we can."
May you like
"We are on our way," Daniel roared, hanging up the phone.
Emily was already on her feet, still in her emerald gown, running barefoot toward the door. The billions of dollars didn't matter. The bloodline didn't matter. If they hurt her little brother, she was going to burn the world to the ground.
