Chapter 1 - The Silence of the King
Marcus Vance did not speak. He did not breathe. He just stared at the small, trembling boy standing between me and his wrath.
Leo’s legs were shaking so violently I thought his knees would give out, but his chin was tilted up. "Don't hurt Clara," the boy whispered. His voice was thin, raspy from months of disuse, but the command in it was pure Vance.
The silence in the garden was deafening. The security guards froze, their hands hovering over concealed weapons, unsure how to handle a boss whose entire world had just been shattered.
Marcus slowly lowered himself to one knee, uncaring that the damp grass stained his custom tailored trousers. He looked at his son, then looked past him to me. His eyes were cold, dark pools of calculation. "How long?" he demanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Nine days, sir," I stammered, still on my knees. "Just standing. A few seconds at first. He... he pushed himself up using the edge of his bed when Mrs. Gable wasn't looking."
Marcus’s gaze snapped to the wheelchair. To the syringe of amber liquid glinting in the sun. The muscle in his jaw feathered. "Gable told me his muscle degeneration was permanent. She said the medication was to manage the pain."
"I... I’m a nursing student, sir," I said, my voice trembling but finding traction. "I looked at the vial three days ago. It’s not a painkiller, Mr. Vance. It’s a low-grade paralytic. It’s a muscle relaxant meant for severe spasms, but in those doses... it’s what was keeping him in that chair."
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The air pressure in the garden seemed to drop. The terror I had seen in Marcus’s eyes morphed into something infinitely more dangerous: pure, unadulterated violence. He stood up slowly.
"Take my son inside, Clara," Marcus said, his voice eerily calm. "Do not let him out of your sight. And do not let Mrs. Gable near him."
