Chapter 8
"Clear the room," Richard commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but the absolute authority it carried spurred the room into immediate action.
The massive mahogany doors of the entrance hall swung open as Richard's elite security team flooded inside. Six towering men, dressed in dark suits similar to their boss, moved with terrifying efficiency. They didn't ask questions; they didn't look at the shattered glass or the bleeding family members on the floor. They simply executed their orders.
"You heard the boss, party is over," the lead bodyguard, a broad-shouldered man named Vance, barked at the terrified guests. "Everyone grab your coats and get to your vehicles. Now."
The wealthy associates, socialites, and business partners didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled over each other like panicked sheep, grabbing whatever coats they could find from the racks, keeping their heads down, desperate to escape the lodge before they became collateral damage. Within three minutes, the grand hall was entirely emptied of outsiders. The heavy main doors slammed shut, and the heavy iron deadbolts clicked into place.
The lodge was locked down. No one was leaving.
"Dad, listen to me, we can talk about this," Mark pleaded, finally managing to drag himself out of the wine trolley wreckage. He gripped the edge of a sturdy leather chair to keep from falling, blood continuously dripping from his chin. "It was a mistake. We were stressed about the party. Claudia lost her temper—"
"Don't you dare blame this on me, Mark!" Claudia screamed from the floor, scrambling to her knees among the crushed ribbons. "You're the one who told the nanny to lock him up! You're the one who said you couldn't stand looking at him!"
"Shut up, both of you," Richard growled. The sheer menace in his tone instantly severed their argument.
Richard looked at Vance. "Take their phones. Strip them of any weapons. Put them in the basement cellar."
"The cellar?" Mark gasped, his face turning an even sicker shade of pale. "Dad, it's freezing down there! It's not heated!"
"Exactly," Richard replied coldly. "You like the cold so much, you can both get intimately acquainted with it. Move them."
Vance and another bodyguard immediately stepped forward. Vance grabbed Mark by the collar of his ruined cashmere sweater, yanking him roughly to his feet, ignoring the man's cry of pain as his shattered jaw jolted. Two other men hoisted a screaming, thrashing Claudia off the floor, dragging her effortlessly toward the heavy wooden doors that led to the lodge's subterranean levels.
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"Richard, please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Claudia wailed, her heels dragging uselessly across the floor.
Richard didn't even look at her as she was dragged away. The heavy cellar doors slammed shut, cutting off her screams instantly. The entrance hall fell back into a grim, tense silence, leaving only Richard, the remaining bodyguards, and the small, shivering boy by the fire.
