Chapter 4 - The Cornered Beast
Three weeks later, the corporate world of New York was still reeling from the spectacular, overnight collapse of the Morrison Fund.
Adrian had been stripped of his CEO title, his assets had been liquidated at auction, and his name had become synonymous with fraud and ruin. Vanessa had vanished, rumored to have fled to Europe to escape the impending federal grand jury subpoenas regarding her role in Adrian’s embezzlement schemes.
Yet, Adrian remained free on a heavily leveraged bail, hiding out in a dingy motel on the outskirts of the city. He had lost his money, his status, and his power, but his obsession with me had only curdled into a lethal, psychotic rage.
"He’s desperate, Mara," Arthur Sinclair warned me as we sat in the sun-drenched living room of my new penthouse, which was protected by state-of-the-art security systems. Leo and Evelyn were sleeping peacefully in their double bassinet near the window. "His lawyers tried to file for joint custody of the twins today. It’s a transparent attempt to get his hands on your trust fund through child support."
"He won't get a single dime, Arthur," I said, my voice cold and unwavering. "And he will never touch my children. I’ve already compiled the medical records of the abuse, the security footage from the bedroom door, and the testimony of several former staff members who witnessed his violence."
"It might not be enough to keep a desperate man from taking drastic measures," Arthur said grimly. "We’ve noticed some suspicious vehicles idling near the building’s service entrance. Marcus is monitoring them, but I want you to be extremely careful."
That night, the storm that had been brewing over the city finally broke.
Around 2:00 AM, the power in the penthouse suddenly cut out. The backup generators hummed to life, casting the rooms in a dim, red emergency glow. My heart leapt into my throat.
I immediately threw back the covers and rushed to the nursery, scooping Leo and Evelyn into my arms just as the heavy, reinforced door of the penthouse shrieked as a circular saw cut through the deadbolt.
"Mara!" Adrian’s voice roared through the dark apartment, distorted by mania and alcohol. "You think you can take everything from me? You think you can lock me out of my own life?"
I retreated into the master bathroom, locking the heavy steel-core door behind me and dialing Marcus’s emergency line.
"He's inside the apartment, Mrs. Morrison," Marcus’s voice came through, tense and rapid over the static. "The elevator cables were cut from the basement. I’m running up the stairs now. Lock yourself in and do not open the door!"
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Through the thick wood of the bathroom door, I could hear Adrian’s heavy, erratic footsteps dragging across the hardwood floor—the same sickening, dragging sound he had made when he dragged me by my ankles.
"I know you're in there, Mara!" he screamed, slamming his body against the bathroom door. "You ruined me! You took my name, my money, my pride! If I'm going to prison, I'm taking you and those bastards with me!"
