Chapter 4 - The Fall of the CousinVictor’s face went from frantic red to an ugly, paper-white shade of green. He looked around the vast warehouse, realizing with horrific clarity that his fourteen private mercenaries had already been silently disarmed and bound by Marcus Vance’s tactical team in the surrounding shadows. He was entirely alone.
"You think you've won, Adrian?!" Victor shrieked, his voice cracking into a pathetic, high-pitched thread as he aimed his gold revolver frantically toward me. "If I don't get the council proxies, nobody gets them! I'll take your precious little contract bride with me!"
Before Victor’s finger could even touch the trigger, a blur of motion exploded across the floor.
Adrian didn't wait for his guards. With incredible upper-body strength honed by three years of relentless physical conditioning, he slammed his titanium wheelchair forward, driving the reinforced front frame directly into Victor’s knees at high speed!
CRACK!
Victor let out a sickening scream as his legs buckled beneath him. He crashed heavily onto the concrete floor, the gold revolver spinning away across the wet stone.
Adrian brought his chair to a precise halt right beside Victor's squirming form. He leaned down, his broad, heavy hand reaching out to grab Victor by his wool collar, lifting his cousin three inches off the floor with effortless, terrifying strength.
"You brought my wife’s mother into a filthy warehouse," Adrian whispered, his face inches from Victor's bleeding nose, his baritone a quiet, apocalyptic growl. "You called her a cripple's nursemaid. And you thought you could use my family to make me crawl."
"Adrian... please..." Victor sobbed, blood dripping from his lip onto his expensive coat. "We're blood... we're family..."
"Family doesn't cut brake lines on Wisconsin highways," Adrian corrected ice-cold.
He threw Victor back onto the concrete like a sack of trash.
"Marcus," Adrian commanded without looking back. "Hand him over to Federal Prosecutor Bridget Colton. Deliver the complete financial ledgers of his Panamanian accounts, his assassination wiretaps, and the kidnapping charges to the District Attorney. I want Victor and Richard in maximum security before the sun comes up."
"Consider it done, Don Vale," Marcus answered, snapping heavy steel handcuffs around Victor’s wrists.
I didn't waste a single second. I sprinted across the concrete floor toward the support pillar.
"Mom!" I cried out, dropping to my knees beside her chair, my shaking hands quickly unfastening the heavy ropes binding her arms.
"Claire! Oh, my baby!" Helen Bennett wept, pulling me into a tight, desperate embrace. She looked over my shoulder at Adrian, her eyes wide with shock and profound gratitude. "Is he... is that your husband?"
I turned back, looking at Adrian as he rolled his chair slowly toward us. The lethal, terrifying Don had vanished once again, replaced by the man who had bought cheap vanilla coffee for me on a rainy night in an empty conference room.
"Yes, Mom," I answered softly, a radiant, tearful smile breaking across my face. "That's Adrian. The man who saved us."
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Adrian stopped beside us, reaching out to gently shake my mother's hand.
"It is an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Bennett," Adrian said smoothly, his grey eyes shining with warmth. "I apologize for the rude accommodations. My driver is waiting to take you to the private wing at Northwestern Medical. You will never be touched by these men again."
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