Chapter 3
Sarah let out a sharp cry of pain as she attempted to shift her position, the jagged bone in her leg grinding beneath swollen muscle.
“Don't move, darling,” Arthur commanded gently, glancing down at her before locking his predatory gaze back onto David. “Marcus, bring the medical kit from the trunk.”
The remaining guard in the hallway nodded, hurrying out to the driveway.
David’s chest heaved in rapid, shallow pants. He ran a frantic hand through his hair, his loosened tie flapping against his chest. “Look, Arthur, let's be reasonable here. We’re all adults. We can talk about this like civilized people. Sarah and I... we’ve been under an enormous amount of stress lately. The firm’s quarterly merger—”
“Shut your mouth,” Arthur interrupted, his voice dropping an octave. “Do not stand in front of me and make excuses for breaking my daughter’s bones in front of your own child.”
“I didn't mean to hurt her!” David yelled, his defensive arrogance flaring up again. “She provoked me! She was threatening to take Emma out of state! She was going to ruin everything I built!”
From the floor, Sarah raised her head, her face pale but her eyes filled with cold disgust. “Everything you built? You built nothing, David. My father funded your entire partnership at the firm!”
“Sarah, be quiet!” Margaret snapped, her voice trembling with shrill indignation. “You ungrateful girl! After everything our family has given you! We gave you our name! We gave you standing in this community!”
“Your name is worthless, Margaret,” Arthur said coldly, turning his gaze toward the older woman. “Your late husband died five million dollars in debt to offshore creditors. The only reason you aren't living in a subsidized apartment on the south side of town is because my daughter took pity on your pride and asked me to cover the shortfall.”
Margaret gasped, clutching her pearls so hard the string strained. “How dare you... how dare you speak to me like that in front of my grandson!”
“Emma is a girl, Margaret,” Sarah whispered through clenched teeth. “You can’t even be bothered to remember what your own granddaughter is.”
David stepped between Arthur and Margaret, his hands raised in a placating gesture that looked pathetic compared to his earlier violence. “Arthur, please. What do you want? Money? A settlement? We can sign a non-disclosure agreement right now. We can handle this quietly without the press finding out. Think of Emma’s future! A public scandal will destroy her life!”
“You should have thought of Emma’s future before you raised your hand against her mother,” Arthur replied.
The heavy front door clicked open again, and two men in navy blue paramedic uniforms hurried into the kitchen carrying a trauma bag and an orange rigid splint. Behind them walked a tall, severe-looking woman carrying a black leather briefcase.
“Dr. Hayes,” Arthur said without looking away from David. “Splint my daughter’s leg and administer five milligrams of morphine for the pain. Prepare her for transport to the private surgical wing at Saint Jude’s.”
“Right away, Director Vance,” the lead paramedic replied, immediately kneeling beside Sarah and opening a sterile pack.
David blinked, his pupils dilating in sheer terror at the title. “Director? What... what did he just call you?”
Sarah looked up at her husband, a bitter, grim smile touching her lips despite the agony in her leg. “Did you really think my father was just a retired corporate consultant, David? Did you really never bother to verify the background of the man whose daughter you married?”
Arthur handed Emma to the woman with the briefcase. “Elena, take Emma out to the town car. Put on her favorite cartoon and make sure she has a blanket.”
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“No!” David shouted, taking a desperate step forward. “You are not taking my daughter out of this house! That is kidnapping! I am her legal guardian!”
Arthur didn't even raise his hands. He simply leaned in close, his face inches from David’s. “Try to stop her, David. Please. Give me an excuse.”
