Chapter 8 - the ashes of the catskills
The rain had turned to a relentless downpour by the time Victor’s black armored sedan tore through the iron gates of the upstate property.
Victor drove himself. Clara sat in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle as the car navigated the mud-slicked mountain road. She had refused to stay behind at the manor, and Victor hadn’t had the time to argue.
Beneath the glare of the high beams, the blackened skeleton of the burned hunting cabin emerged from the dense pine forest. Ten years of overgrowth had covered the charred beams with ivy and moss.
Sitting in the clearing was the abandoned estate SUV, its driver’s door swinging open in the cold wind.
Victor cut the engine. He reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a matte-black .45 caliber semi-automatic, checked the chamber with a smooth slide of his thumb, and tucked it into his jacket.
“Stay in the car,” Victor commanded.
“No,” Clara said firmly, unbuckling her seatbelt. “The key belongs to my mother’s lockbox. Your father gave it to her. If Julian is in there looking for it, he won't know which floorboard to pry open. I do.”
Victor looked at her for three seconds. He saw no fear in her eyes—only a fierce, stubborn determination.
“Behind me,” Victor said simply.
They stepped out into the freezing mud. The rain battered Victor’s tuxedo as he led her toward the ruins of the cabin’s stone foundation.
Inside the charred remains of the main hearth, a single flashlight beam danced across the wet stone.
Julian Vance was on his knees, tearing away rotted wooden planks from the floor, his designer suit caked in black soot and mud. A heavy crowbar lay beside him.
“Looking for something, Julian?” Victor’s voice cut through the sound of the rain.
Julian jumped, dropping a rusted metal tin onto the stones. He spun around, blinding Victor with the flashlight.
Victor raised the .45 with terrifying precision, aiming it directly between Julian’s eyes.
“Turn it off,” Victor ordered.
May you like
Julian lowered the beam, his chest heaving, his fair face smeared with ash. “Victor... you don't understand what’s in this box. If you open it, the entire Bellaro empire falls apart. It’s not just Celeste. It’s everyone.”
***
