Chapter 5 - Inheritance of Blood
Matthew was the only one left standing.
The Board members had fled, trying to reach their families.
The mercenaries had vanished into the night.
It was just the two of us in the grand hall.
The same hall where my father used to host Christmas parties.
The same hall where Matthew’s father had toasted to a friendship he was about to betray.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Matthew said.
He pulled a small derringer from his pocket—a last-ditch effort.
I was faster.
I threw a knife that embedded itself in his hand before he could aim.
He screamed, dropping the gun.
I walked toward him, my boots clicking on the marble floor.
"My father loved yours like a brother," I said.
"And you watched as he burned."
"I was a child!" Matthew yelled.
"So was I," I countered.
"But I didn't hide behind a desk and buy expensive coats."
"I bled. I fought. I waited."
I stood over him as he slumped against the mahogany table.
I didn't kill him.
Killing him would be too easy.
I pulled out a folder and tossed it onto the table.
"Those are the deeds to every property you own."
"Those are the confessions for every murder you've ordered."
"They've already been sent to the District Attorney."
"But the law is too slow for what I have in mind."
I leaned down, grabbing him by the collar.
"I've left the gates open, Matthew."
"The families of the people you've disappeared? The shopkeepers you've extorted?"
"The 'tired waitresses' of this city?"
"They’re all on their way here."
Matthew’s eyes filled with a new kind of horror.
He realized he wasn't going to jail.
He was going to face the people he had spent a lifetime looking down on.
"Please," he begged. "Just kill me."
"No," I said, stepping back.
"I’m going back to the diner."
"I have an early shift tomorrow."
"And Carla needs help with the coffee."
I turned and walked out of the mansion.
As I drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror.
I could see the lights of dozens of cars heading toward the estate.
The people were reclaiming their city.
The Thorne legacy wasn't about power or money.
It was about balance.
The fire was finally out.
I reached into my pocket and felt the cold metal of the ring.
I took it off the chain and threw it out the window into the dark river below.
The past was finally gone.
Eighteen years of hiding was over.
I was twenty-six years old.
I was a waitress.
I was a survivor.
And for the first time in my life...
I was free.
I drove into the sunrise, heading back to the smell of grease and the sound of the 3:00 AM bell.
May you like
Because sometimes, the most powerful person in the room...
Is the one you never bother to notice.
