Chapter 18 - The Hunt on Blackwood Island
Julian pressed the muzzle of the Glock firmly against the center of Mark Vance’s forehead. The metallic click of the hammer cocking back was the loudest sound in the world.
"Talk," Julian said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Before I paint this wall with your skull."
Vance smiled weakly, a bloody, defeated grimace. "Go ahead, Julian. Kill me. Then you’ll never find him."
"Julian, wait!" Clara stepped between the barrel and Vance, her eyes blazing with an unholy fire. She grabbed Vance’s jaw, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me, you pathetic coward. Eleanor is in a cage. Her fortune is gone. Whoever you’re working for—Damian—he doesn't care about you. Once he has what he wants, you are a loose end. You know how the Sterlings operate. Tell us where Damian took Lucas, and we will let you walk away."
Vance swallowed hard, his bravado cracking under the sheer intensity of Clara’s gaze. He knew she was right. Eleanor had discarded a hundred men like him.
"Blackwood Island," Vance rasped, coughing weakly. "Off the coast of Rockland, Maine. It’s an old private estate Robert Sterling bought in the eighties. It’s not on any public tax map. Damian’s been living there since he returned from Europe six months ago."
"Why Lucas?" Clara demanded, digging her fingers into Vance’s collar. "Why not just kill Julian?"
"Because Eleanor didn't want Julian dead," Vance whispered, blood trickling down his chin. "Death is mercy. She wanted him to suffer the exact same way she suffered. She wanted Clara to watch her child raised by a monster, knowing she couldn't stop it. Eleanor promised Damian the entire Sterling estate once Julian was broken."
Julian didn't hesitate. He swung the butt of the Glock into Vance’s temple, knocking the traitor out cold.
"Julian!" Clara gasped.
"He’s alive. The feds can deal with him later," Julian said, pulling a satellite phone and marine GPS from Vance’s tactical vest. He turned to Clara, his eyes burning with lethal determination. "Blackwood Island is surrounded by shoals and jagged reefs. We can't take a police helicopter—Damian will see it coming five miles out and kill Lucas. We take the foundation’s high-speed offshore boat from the Rockland marina."
Clara grabbed Julian’s arm, her grip unbreakable. "I'm coming with you."
"Clara, it’s suicide—"
"He has my son!" Clara snarled, her voice shaking with an authority that brooked no argument. "I fought Eleanor in that dining room on Christmas Eve with my bare hands. I am not sitting in a hotel room while you fight his brother. We go together, Julian. Or I take that boat myself."
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Julian looked into Clara’s eyes—the same fiery, unyielding eyes that had stared down Eleanor’s abuse and brought an empire to its knees. He nodded once, racking the slide of his weapon.
"Then we end this tonight."
