Chapter 14
902words
My security team swarmed the property with military precision.
In the disheveled living room, my men held the elder Daltons against the sofa. Their faces had the waxy pallor of the terminally ill.
My lawyer spread documents across the coffee table. "Per the bankruptcy restructuring agreement," he explained clinically, "all Dalton Group assets, both liquid and fixed, will be liquidated with priority compensation to the Wells Group."
"Alice!" Loki's mother flung herself at my feet, clutching my pant leg with skeletal fingers. "I—I wasn't so terrible to you! How can you be so cruel? This was your home! Please have mercy! Your father-in-law's heart—he can't survive being evicted—"
Loki's father's eyes reddened with unshed tears. "We made mistakes, but you were a Dalton once! Do you want our deaths on your conscience?"
I looked down at their crumpled forms with detached interest. "Then die. But please do it elsewhere. Suicide lowers property values significantly."
Their pleading expressions froze in shock.
"Alice!" A hoarse voice called from the staircase.
Loki stumbled down the stairs in a wrinkled shirt, several days' stubble darkening his jaw. "Are you satisfied now? Has your revenge quenched your thirst?!"
"Revenge?" I laughed softly. "You flatter yourself."
He jabbed a finger toward me, voice rising to a shout. "If you hate me, deal with me directly! Why destroy my parents? Why push us to the brink? Have you lost all humanity—"
I raised my hand slightly. Lance tensed to move forward but stopped at my subtle headshake.
"Silence," I said quietly, meeting Loki's gaze. "You dare speak of 'humanity' to my face?"
He faltered under my stare but rallied, teeth clenched. "Whatever you say, you left our son alone! You killed him! And now you're destroying everything else I love! You've completely lost your mind—"
Something snapped inside me at those words.
"Lance," I said with deadly calm, "The evidence."
Lance tossed a thick folder at Loki's feet. Documents and photographs spilled across the marble floor.
I approached slowly, nudging one particular document toward him with my toe. "Read it."
It was an airline manifest with his name highlighted.
All color drained from Loki's face.
"Tell me, Loki," I said softly, "who had the more important fever that day? Your infant son or your precious Cynthia?"
His mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged.
"It wasn't—" his lips trembled pathetically. "I thought you'd be back soon. I never expected—"
"So you calculated the odds, decided our son would survive your absence, and flew off to play white knight?" I seized his collar, yanking him forward. "And when he died, you made me the murderer, didn't you?"
His face reddened as he struggled for breath, still defiant. "But you were wrong too! Why didn't you take him with you? Why did you have to—"
My fist connected with his face before he could finish.
"Shut your mouth."
The satisfying crunch of breaking cartilage accompanied his backward fall. He crashed into the coffee table, sending glass shards flying.
Loki's mother shrieked, "Alice, you've lost your mind! You—"
One look from me silenced her mid-sentence. She shrank back, trembling violently.
Loki clutched his face, blood streaming between his fingers, yet still struggled to rise.
I stepped forward and ground my heel into his hand, twisting deliberately.
"My son's life," I whispered, leaning down to his contorted face, "is worth breaking every bone in your body. Three times over."
Sweat beaded on his forehead from the pain, yet he refused to scream. "You—you're assaulting me—that's illegal—"
"Don't worry," I smiled coldly. "I'll only hit you once more. The law will handle the rest."
I delivered one final, vicious blow.
My fist connected with the arm that had once cradled my son. The distinct pop of dislocation was music to my ears.
This time, he couldn't contain his scream.
The elder Daltons huddled in the corner, too terrified to even whimper.
Loki lay crumpled on the floor, one eye swollen shut, nose clearly broken, breathing in wet, labored gasps.
Measured footsteps approached from the foyer.
Several police officers entered, escorted by my security team. The lead detective flashed his badge, his voice professionally detached:
"Loki Dalton, you're under arrest for financial fraud, money laundering, tax evasion, and criminal negligence resulting in the death of a minor. You have the right to remain silent."
Loki looked up through his one functioning eye, face contorted with disbelief. "No... impossible... Alice, you loved me! I loved you! You can't do this! Please—"
I watched impassively as they cuffed his hands behind his back, ignoring his wince of pain as they wrenched his dislocated shoulder.
"I loved you..." he rasped desperately as they dragged him toward the door. "Alice, I truly loved you—"
"How nice for you," I said, turning my back on him. "That delusion should provide some comfort during your twenty-year sentence."
"Get him out of here," the detective ordered.
His protests faded as they hauled him to the waiting police car.
Only Lance, myself, and two shell-shocked elders remained in the destroyed living room.
Without a backward glance, I walked into the blinding sunlight.
Lance unfurled an umbrella, holding it carefully over my head.
I gazed up at the mansion that had once housed all my foolish dreams and smiled faintly.
"Lance, there's one more place I need to visit."
"Anywhere, Alice."
