Chapter 10 - The Family War“Who does Knox work for?” I asked.
Thomas Prescott looked as if the answer had aged him ten years before he even spoke.
“Brandon.”
Julia’s face twisted. “Of course.”
Thunder rolled closer.
Cyrus scanned the road. “We need to move.”
Detective Ortiz was already calling for backup, but backup in real life is never as fast as people think. Especially when you are standing in a church parking lot with a bag full of evidence, a terrified witness, and a private fixer on the way.
Thomas stepped toward Julia.
She stepped back.
That small movement hurt him. I could see it. But pain does not erase betrayal.
“You don’t get to warn me once and call yourself my father,” she said.
He lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Mom begged you.”
“I know.”
“You told her Margaret was family.”
His face crumpled.
“I know.”
The sky opened.
Rain hit the pavement hard and sudden, turning dust to dark streaks around our shoes.
Cyrus took the canvas bag from Julia and handed it to me. “Car. Now.”
But Thomas was still talking.
“Brandon is moving against Margaret,” he said. “That’s why everything is happening so fast. He thinks Emily’s evidence can destroy his mother but save him if he controls it.”
Detective Ortiz paused mid-call. “Save him how?”
“By blaming Margaret. By saying she orchestrated the intimidation, the medical holds, the payments. He’ll sacrifice Ethan too if necessary.”
Julia stared. “He would destroy his own brother?”
Thomas gave a bitter smile. “Brandon has been waiting to run the family since he was twenty.”
That made sense.
Ethan was violent and entitled, but Brandon was colder. Margaret ruled through image and social power. Brandon ruled through systems. If the machine was breaking, he would not try to repair it.
He would steal the parts.
A second vehicle appeared at the far end of the lane.
White van.
No logo.
Cyrus moved first.
“Go!”
Detective Ortiz pulled Julia toward her car. Thomas stood frozen until I grabbed his sleeve.
“You came to warn her,” I snapped. “Do not make that the last useful thing you do.”
We reached the vehicles as the van accelerated.
No dramatic music. No cinematic pause. Just wet pavement, bad visibility, and the terrifying speed of consequences arriving early.
Cyrus got into my passenger seat. I shoved the evidence bag beneath his legs and started the engine.
“Hospital?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Too obvious.”
“My daughter is there.”
“Exactly. Knox will assume we run back to her. Ortiz can protect the hospital better if we don’t lead him there.”
I hated that he was right.
Detective Ortiz pulled out ahead with Julia. Thomas got into his SUV and blocked part of the lane.
The white van swerved around him, clipping his bumper with a metallic scream.
Thomas’s SUV spun halfway across the church entrance.
Julia screamed from Ortiz’s car.
But Thomas was alive. I saw him move.
Then Knox came after us.
Rain hammered the windshield. My tires fought the road. Cyrus called directions without raising his voice.
“Left. Not the main road. Left.”
I turned onto a narrow service road behind the church, passing trees bent under the storm.
The van followed.
Cyrus opened the evidence bag and searched through Gloria’s files with one hand braced against the dash.
“Not now,” I said.
“Very much now.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The thing Brandon wants most.”
Another turn.
The van gained.
My phone rang.
Emily.
I answered on speaker.
“Mom?” Her voice was panicked. “The news just changed.”
“What?”
“They’re saying Brandon Prescott is cooperating with authorities.”
Cyrus looked up.
Emily continued, “He’s blaming Margaret for everything. He says Ethan was also a victim of her manipulation.”
I almost missed the next turn.
Cyrus said, “There it is.”
“What?” Emily asked.
“Brandon is making his move.”
Emily’s voice shook. “Mom, Margaret is here.”
My heart stopped.
“At the hospital?”
“Yes. Security stopped her downstairs, but she sent something up.”
“What?”
Emily started crying.
“A wedding photo.”
Silence.
Then Rachel’s voice came through, sharp and afraid. “Colonel, there’s writing on the back.”
Emily read it aloud.
You should have stayed grateful.
The line went dead.
Not ended.
Cut.
I stared at the phone.
May you like
Cyrus said my name.
The white van rammed us from behind.
