Chapter 6 - The Return of Victoria
The word hung in the damp night air like a drop of poison. Victoria Mercer. The wife Andrew had buried in his heart nine years ago, the woman who supposedly died in a tragic private plane crash off the coast of Maine, was not only alive—she was pulling the legal strings that had just set the entire federal apparatus and local police force against us.
Andrew stood motionless beside the open door of the Mercedes, his wet overcoat clinging to his broad shoulders. The rain continued to fall in steady, relentless sheets, washing the mud from his boots, but he didn't blink. The grief that had softened his features a moment ago when holding his brother vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, calculating fury that seemed to drop the ambient temperature around us by ten degrees.
"Boss," Viktor said urgently, leaning over the console as his fingers danced across a scrambled tactical tablet. "The warrants were filed thirty minutes ago under an emergency federal seal. They aren't local police hits—they're high-tier federal marshals backed by Vanguard’s private tactical unit. They’re locking down every highway leading out of the county."
"Victoria," Andrew muttered, the name tasting like ash on his tongue. He looked down at Daniel, who was shivering violently in the front passenger seat, wrapped in a thermal blanket. "She didn't die in the crash. She staged it. She took control of the family board while I was hunting ghosts, and she used Daniel as a living ghost to drain the estate."
"And now she wants loose ends tied up," Mommy whispered from the back seat, pulling me closer against her chest as she watched Andrew's face. "When I was working the night shift on the fourth floor, I found her signature on the pharmaceutical authorization logs. She was the one who ordered the heavy sedatives for Daniel. She didn't want him dead immediately... she wanted him trapped inside his own mind forever so no one could contest her inheritance."
Andrew closed his eyes for a single second. When he opened them, the dark depths of his gaze held no mercy left for anyone.
"Get Daniel into the secondary transport," Andrew ordered, his voice dropping into a low, lethal register that brooked zero argument. "Viktor, take Sarah and Ivy to the safehouse in the harbor district. Make sure the medical team is waiting there for my brother."
"And you, boss?" Viktor asked, his hand hovering over the gearshift.
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"I'm going to go welcome my wife home," Andrew said softly, pulling a fresh magazine from his inner pocket and sliding it into his sidearm with a sharp, metallic click.
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