Chapter 8 - the doctor's confession
Within five minutes, the estate perimeter was fully secured by loyal Turner enforcers. The surviving mercenary was pinned against the foyer wall by Captain Joseph, while federal authorities were notified of the armed intrusion.
Vincent walked into his private study, where Emily and Lily were waiting safely.
Emily ran forward, throwing her arms around Vincent's broad chest in a sudden burst of overwhelming relief. "Vincent! You're safe!"
Vincent froze for a fraction of a second, unused to such genuine warmth, before wrapping his broad, tattooed arm securely around her waist, holding her close against his side.
Lily walked up, holding her silver tiara. "Uncle Vincent, did you beat the bad men?"
Vincent looked down at the eight-year-old girl, a bright, genuine smile touching his rugged features. He crouched down, gently placing the silver tiara back onto her blonde waves. "The bad men are gone, little princess. Thanks to you."
Captain Joseph stepped into the study, holding an encrypted satellite phone. "Don Vincent! We just intercepted an emergency transmission from Chicago. Victor Turner has boarded a private jet heading directly to JFK Airport. He's coming to seize the vault on Fifth Avenue before we can reach it!"
Vincent stood up to his full height, his dark eyes burning with unshakeable resolve. "Prepare the armored convoy, Joseph. We meet my uncle at the bank."
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Emily stepped close to him, her soft blue eyes looking into his. "We're coming with you, Vincent. Lily and I aren't leaving your side."
Vincent looked into her eyes, seeing the quiet, fierce bravery that had sustained her through years of hardship. He nodded softly, taking her fair hand in his broad palm. "Then we finish this together."
