Chapter 9 - The Inner Sanctum
The heavy iron gates of the Riverdale estate slammed shut behind the town cars.
Tamson was dragged through the front entrance, past the silver closet, and straight down the long hallway toward Evander's private office.
Marcus was hauled in right behind her, his face bruised and bleeding.
The heavy oak doors of the office pushed open.
Evander Rallo sat behind his mahogany desk.
He looked tired, the harsh desk lamp casting deep shadows beneath his eyes.
He didn't look like a mob boss in that moment.
He looked like a man standing at the edge of an abyss.
"Put them down," Evander said.
The guards released their grip.
Tamson stumbled forward, catching herself on the edge of the desk.
She rubbed her bruised arm, glaring up at him with unbridled fury.
"You're a murderer," Tamson spat. "You and your entire family."
Evander slowly raised his eyes.
He looked at Tamson, then past her to Marcus.
"Marcus," Evander said, his voice dangerously quiet.
"I thought you retired to Florida five years ago."
"I should have," Marcus wheezed, wiping blood from his lip.
"Instead I stayed long enough to watch your family slaughter honest men."
Evander stood up slowly.
He walked around the desk, stopping just inches from Tamson.
He could smell the rain and fear on her jacket.
Yet there was no fear in her eyes. Only pure, burning hatred.
"Sabine tells me you found the car in Brooklyn," Evander said.
"He tells me you have a key to a safety deposit box."
"I have the proof," Tamson said defiantly.
"The ledger. The truth about how your uncle murdered my father."
Evander’s expression shifted.
A flicker of genuine confusion crossed his face.
"My uncle?" Evander repeated.
"Don't play innocent," Tamson hissed. "You signed the cover-up!"
"I signed nothing about an accident four years ago," Evander said coldly.
"I was in Geneva for six months handling European expansion when your parents died. Sabine managed the estate operations while I was away."
Tamson froze.
She turned her head slowly to look at Sabine Lockidge, who stood quietly by the doorway.
Sabine’s face remained impassive.
"He was in Geneva?" Tamson whispered.
"Look at the date on the insurance report," Evander said, stepping closer.
"The signature at the bottom... was it mine?"
Tamson remembered the fast, slanted signature she had photographed in the cabinet.
It didn't look like Evander's deliberate, block-lettered signature.
It looked like... Sabine's handwriting.
She turned back to Sabine.
The lawyer hadn't flinched.
In fact, a slow, cold smile was beginning to spread across Sabine's lips.
"Impressive, Miss Hollis," Sabine said, his voice smooth as silk.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, silenced pistol.
Before anyone could react, Sabine raised the barrel and fired.
Puff.
Marcus let out a sharp gasp, stumbling backward before collapsing heavily against the Persian rug, blood pooling beneath his chest.
"Marcus!" Tamson screamed, dropping to her knees.
Evander moved with terrifying speed.
In a fraction of a second, he drew his own weapon from his shoulder holster, leveling it directly at Sabine's head.
"Put it down, Sabine," Evander growled, his voice dropping an octave into pure menace.
Sabine didn't lower his gun.
Instead, he kept it aimed calmly at Evander.
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"I wouldn't do that, boss," Sabine laughed softly.
"The guards outside aren't loyal to you anymore. They answer to the board of directors. And the board... they want a clean break with the Rallo family legacy."
