Chapter 11
The quiet thud of the front door closing felt louder than any gunshot. In the bright, immaculate living room, the silence that followed was suffocating. Robert slowly peeled himself off the beer-stained wall, his checked shirt clinging to his sweating, rosy skin. He looked at the shattered glass on the floor, his hands trembling violently.
"What does he mean?" Rebecca whimpered from the floor by the marble fireplace, her emerald silk blouse wrinkled and stained with her own tears. "What is he going to do?"
Linda finally pulled herself up from the floor, her fair face bearing the stark, angry red mark of Daniel's slap. Her pristine, floral-patterned world was entirely destroyed. "He's just angry. He's just throwing a tantrum. He'll calm down. We just need to give him time."
Robert turned on his wife, his face twisting into a mask of pathetic, terrified rage. "Did you look at his eyes, Linda? He isn't going to calm down! He's going to destroy us!"
"Destroy us how?" Rebecca shrieked, clutching her gold jewelry. "We have money! Dad owns the company! Daniel is just a consultant!"
"Daniel built the company, you idiot!" Robert roared, his booming American accent cracking with sheer panic. "I'm just the figurehead! He controls the offshore accounts! He controls the board! If he walks away, we are bankrupt by Monday!"
Outside, Daniel strapped a sleeping Lily into her car seat in the back of his sleek, black SUV. He closed the door softly, his face a mask of absolute, terrifying calm. He pulled his encrypted smartphone from his tailored trousers and dialed a number.
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"Sir?" a sharp, professional voice answered.
"Marcus," Daniel said, his voice dropping into the lethal register of the mafia boss he truly was. "Execute Protocol Zero on the Reed Family Trust. Freeze everything. And send a cleanup team to the estate. I want them removed."
