Chapter 6 - Blood Isn't Loyalty
Daniel stood frozen in the center of the empty villa, staring at the note on the glass table.
The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of the linen curtains.
Sophie’s little pink sneakers were gone from the entryway rack.
Emily’s canvas duffel bag, which she had insisted on carrying despite his protests that they hire private luggage handlers, had vanished from the closet.
Daniel collapsed onto the edge of the plush sofa, burying his face in his hands as a violent wave of nausea swept through him.
He could still feel the phantom impact of his palm against Emily's soft cheek.
He looked at his right hand, horrified by the fingers that had caressed his wife for years, only to become a weapon of blind stupidity.
His phone buzzed aggressively in his pocket, shattering the agonizing quiet of the suite.
Daniel pulled the device out, his heart leaping for a fraction of a second, hoping against hope that Emily had texted him.
The caller ID displayed the name of Julian Vance, his uncle and the senior managing partner of the family's multi-million-dollar investment fund.
Daniel answered the phone, his voice flat and hoarse. "Julian."
"Daniel, what in God's name is happening down there?!" Julian’s voice boomed through the speaker, breathless and furious. "I just received a call from the county sheriff's department! They have Patricia in a holding cell!"
"She belongs there," Daniel said, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Julian barked, the sound of papers shuffling violently in the background. "She is the matriarch of this family! She holds fifteen percent of the voting shares in the firm! If the press gets hold of a child abuse charge, our stock will plummet by thirty percent at the opening bell tomorrow!"
"Did you ask about Sophie?" Daniel asked quietly, a dangerous chill creeping into his tone.
"What?" Julian paused, momentarily thrown off balance.
"Did you ask if your five-year-old grandniece was breathing?" Daniel continued, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "Did you ask if she was alive?"
"Daniel, children fall into pools all the time—"
"Patricia threw her in, Julian," Daniel snarled, standing up from the sofa. "She picked her up by her feet and dropped her upside down like a bag of garbage."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause on the other end of the line.
"Look, Daniel... Patricia has always been high-strung, especially regarding that wife of yours," Julian said, his tone shifting into a slimy attempt at diplomacy. "We know Emily has always been a point of friction. But family protects family. We hire the best defense team in the state, we pay off the resort to wipe the servers, and we handle this internally."
"Pay off the resort?" Daniel repeated, a bitter, incredulous laugh escaping his throat. "I already gave the original footage to the state prosecutor."
"You did WHAT?!" Julian roared, losing all composure. "Are you insane?! You handed evidence against your own mother to the state?!"
"I will testify against her myself," Daniel said, every word dripping with cold, unyielding resolve. "And if you use a single penny of company funds to post her bail or hire her attorneys, I will call a shareholder meeting and expose your embezzlement from the offshore accounts."
Silence fell over the call, heavy and suffocating.
"You wouldn't dare," Julian whispered, the arrogance entirely stripped from his voice.
"Try me," Daniel said coldly. "Blood isn't loyalty, Julian. Loyalty is protecting the people who trust you. And Patricia proved she is nothing more than a monster."
Daniel ended the call without waiting for a response and immediately blocked his uncle’s number.
He tossed the phone onto the cushion and walked over to the glass table, picking up Sophie’s stuffed rabbit.
The plush fur still smelled faintly of the strawberry shampoo Emily used to wash their daughter's curls that very morning.
Tears blurred Daniel's vision again as he clutched the small toy against his chest.
How could he have been so blind for six years?
He remembered every snide comment Patricia had ever made at Thanksgiving dinners, disguised as helpful advice.
*“Emily, dear, that dress is lovely, but perhaps someone of your background doesn't know how to dress for an evening gala.”*
*“Daniel, make sure the prenuptial agreement is ironclad; women from her neighborhood know how to trap successful men.”*
He had always laughed it off, telling Emily to ignore it, claiming his mother was just from an older, more traditional generation.
He had demanded that Emily be the bigger person, forcing his gentle, kind wife to absorb poison just to keep the peace in his wealthy family.
And today, when that poison escalated into attempted murder, he had delivered the physical blow on his mother’s behalf.
Daniel dropped to his knees on the polished marble floor of the villa, clutching the stuffed rabbit, sobbing in broken, agonizing bursts.
He had protected his toxic mother for years at the expense of the only woman who had ever truly loved him without a price tag.
The sound of his phone ringing again broke through his grief.
Daniel wiped his eyes, crawling back to the sofa, expecting another furious relative from the Vance dynasty.
Instead, the screen showed a call from the front desk of the resort.
Daniel swiped the screen instantly. "Hello?"
May you like
"Mr. Vance, this is the concierge," a polite, cautious voice spoke. "A private taxi picked up Mrs. Vance and your daughter twenty minutes ago."
Daniel sat bolt upright, adrenaline surging through his veins. "Where did the driver take them? Did she give a destination?"
