Chapter 2 - The BlockadeWhen I pulled up to the iron gates of the Vance mansion, the house was ablaze with light. I didn't bother waiting for the intercom; I pushed through the front entry doors and stepped into the grand marble foyer.
Derek’s mother, Bertha Vance, was standing near the foot of the sweeping staircase. Dressed in a silk robe and dripping with gold jewelry, she blocked my path, her lips curled into an arrogant sneer.
"Baldric," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Arianne had an emotional breakdown. Derek gave her something to calm her down. She is resting."
"Where is she?" I demanded, taking a step toward the stairs.
Bertha held up a manicured hand, her eyes cold. "Stay out of this, old man. This is a private family matter."
I looked down at her, my hands clenching into iron fists. "She is my daughter."
I brushed past her, ignoring her sharp gasp of outrage. Upstairs, Derek appeared on the landing, disheveled, pale, and breathing heavily.
"She did it to herself!" he yelled, waving his hands wildly. "She’s crazy, Baldric! She slipped!"
I didn't utter a single word. I pushed past Derek and threw open the master bathroom door.
My heart stopped in my chest.
Arianne was lying motionless on the cold marble floor. Her face was pale, her yellow nightgown disheveled, and dark, painful purple bruises lined her arms and encircled both wrists. Her breathing was dangerously shallow.
I dropped to my knees, cradling her head. "Arianne... baby, wake up."
Her eyes remained closed. She felt terrifyingly light in my arms, like a bird with broken wings.
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From the doorway, Bertha barked, "You cannot take her out of this house! Think of the press! Think of our family's reputation!"
I looked up at her, every ounce of polite restraint evaporating into ash. "Watch me."
