Chapter 11 - The Manor LockdownThe heavy oak doors of Montgomery Manor slammed shut with a reverberating thud. Outside, rain began to pour, mirroring the storm brewing within the grand ballroom.
Arthur stood at the center of the room, holding the tiny, purple-stained note in his trembling hand. Beside him, Lily clutched his coat, her wide eyes moving from the shattered glass on the floor to the pale, sweat-beaded face of her cousin Julian.
"Call the Chief of Police directly," Arthur ordered his head butler in a low, lethal voice. "Tell him I am holding the entire room until homicide investigators arrive."
Panic rippled through the high-society guests. Whispers broke out like wildfire.
"Quiet!" Arthur’s voice thundered, cutting through the room like a blade. He turned his gaze toward Julian and Beatrice. "Eight years ago, I believed my daughter walked away because she hated my empire. Tonight, I learn she was hunted down. And someone in this room just tried to finish the job on her seven-year-old child."
Julian’s mind raced as he tried to keep his composure. He stepped forward, putting on a front of indignant concern.
"Uncle Arthur, this is madness," Julian pleaded, opening his hands. "A chemical reaction from a dirty glass? A cryptic note? You are letting grief and paranoia distort your mind! We are your family. Why would anyone here want to harm little Lily?"
"Because she inherits everything, Julian," Arthur said, stepping closer to his nephew. "And because dead men—and dead children—don't claim shares."
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Within fifteen minutes, police cruisers pulled up the long driveway, their red and blue lights flashing against the wet stone lions at the gates. Lead Detective Raymond Vance, a veteran investigator unaffiliated with the family's corporate payroll, stepped into the foyer.
The manor was no longer a home. It was officially a crime scene.
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