Chapter 14: The Ghost of Arthur Thorne
Julian spun around, his gun raised toward the doorway. Vanessa let out a blood-curdling scream.
Standing amidst the shattered glass was a man Emily hadn't seen in ten years.
He was older, his hair completely white, his face weathered by the sun and lined with deep scars. He wore a sharp, black tactical coat, and flanked on either side of him were two heavily armed mercenaries pointing assault rifles directly at Julian.
Emily’s breath caught in her throat. The ledger slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
“Dad?” she whispered, the word feeling foreign on her tongue.
Arthur Thorne didn't look at his daughter. His cold, calculating eyes were locked entirely on his former partner.
“Arthur,” Julian breathed, genuinely shocked for the first time in his life. “You’re supposed to be in hiding.”
“I was,” Arthur said, stepping slowly into the room, his mercenaries keeping their sights locked on Julian’s chest. “Until my men intercepted chatter that you were sending street thugs after my daughter. You broke the rule, Julian. We agreed our families were off-limits.”
“She has the ledger!” Julian shouted, gesturing with his gun, though his hand was shaking. “She was going to give it to Daniel! You’d hang right beside me, Arthur!”
“I don't care about the money anymore,” Arthur said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “But I do care about leverage.”
Arthur finally turned his gaze to Emily. There was no fatherly warmth in his eyes, no apology for a decade of abandonment. He looked at her the same way a chess player looks at a pawn.
“Pick up the book, Emily, and bring it to me,” Arthur commanded.
Emily couldn't move. Her body was paralyzed by a toxic mix of rage, terror, and heartbreak. “You left us,” she choked out. “Mom is dying in a clinic, and you left us with nothing.”
“I did what I had to do to survive,” Arthur replied coldly. “Now, bring me the book.”
“No!” Vanessa suddenly screamed, her panic overriding her common sense. She lunged forward, diving for the black ledger on the floor.
“Vanessa, stop!” Julian yelled.
Everything happened in a blur of motion. Julian tried to grab Vanessa, Arthur’s mercenaries raised their weapons, and a deafening CRACK split the air.
But the shot didn't come from Julian’s gun.
It came from the sky.
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The unmistakable, thunderous chopping sound of helicopter blades suddenly drowned out the chaos. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, a black corporate helicopter rose from the cliffside, hovering level with the glass house.
The side door of the chopper was open. Daniel Sterling stood strapped in the doorway, a high-powered hunting rifle pressed to his shoulder, the barrel smoking. He had just shot Julian’s gun straight out of his hand.
