Chapter 4 - The Web of Serpents
The floor-to-ceiling window of my master bedroom was open, the cold Atlantic wind whipping through the room, billowing the sheer white curtains like execution shrouds.
Julian Thorne hung halfway out the window, twelve stories above the jagged granite rocks and churning ocean surf below. Anton held him securely by his ankles, while my hand rested casually on the back of his collar, holding him over the abyss.
"I'll talk! I'll talk!" Julian shrieked, his pristine gray suit ruined, his silver watch banging uselessly against the outer brick facade. "Please, Caleb! Don't drop me! My God, please!"
"Give me the names, Julian," I said, my voice completely devoid of mercy, standing firmly on my two shaking legs, leaning against the window frame for support. Every second standing was a battle against muscle fatigue, but the sheer adrenaline coursing through my veins kept me upright. "Who ordered the hit on my car eight years ago? Who paid you to keep me paralyzed?"
"It was Marcus! Marcus Vance!" Julian screamed into the wind, tears and snot streaming down his face. "He organized the shipping sabotage! He hired the truck that hit your town car on the bridge! But you survived... Audrey died, but you survived! He couldn't risk another loud hit because the Italian families in New York were ready to start a war over your death!"
"So he bought you," I stated coldly.
"He promised me ten percent of the pharmaceutical distribution rights through your harbor docks!" Julian wept. "He threatened to kill my daughter if I didn't cooperate! I had no choice! Arthur Vance found out about the paralytic compound three years ago and tried to contact you—that's why Marcus had him framed and sent to prison!"
"Who else on my board is involved?"
"Victor Ross and Senator Sterling!" Julian stammered frantically. "They're using your harbor routes to move untraceable shipments of illegal weapons and synthetic narcotics! They needed you paralyzed, Caleb! They needed a figurehead who couldn't walk into the docks, couldn't inspect the manifests, couldn't fight back!"
I looked back at Anton. "Did you record that?"
Anton lifted a sleek digital recording device from his pocket, the red light glowing steadily. "Every single word, Boss."
"Pull him in," I ordered.
Anton hauled the weeping, broken doctor back over the windowsill, slamming him onto the carpet. Julian curled into a ball, clutching his throat, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Anton, lock him in the subterranean holding cell beneath the wine cellar," I commanded, pulling a heavy wool coat over my shoulders, stepping toward the bedroom door. My gait was awkward, stiff, like a newborn foal learning to walk for the first time, but every step was solid. "Get my physical therapy team from twenty years ago—the ones I can trust. I have forty-eight hours to get my strength back before the annual Marino Enterprises Board Gala on Friday night."
"And the Vance family, sir?" Anton asked, motioning for two guards to drag Julian away. "Maria and the kids?"
May you like
I stopped near the doorway, looking down the long hallway where little Lily was currently sitting on a windowsill, swinging her legs and humming the same pop song from the winter garden.
"Tell Maria her husband will be out of prison by tomorrow night," I said softly. "And tell Lily... she’s getting the biggest hot dog stand in the city."
