Chapter 211
Chapter 211:
Victor screamed, dropping the ruined weapon and clutching his stinging fingers.
Before he could run, two of Alistair’s men tackled him into the mud.
Skye didn’t stop for him. She ran up the porch steps, stumbling once before catching herself on the railing, and kicked the front door open.
“Arthur!” she yelled.
The foyer was empty. Suitcases were piled near the door. Aunt Petunia was there, frantically stuffing jewelry into a Hermès bag. She looked up, her face a mask of terror.
“Skye!” Petunia gasped. “It wasn’t me! It was Victor! He made me p>
Skye crossed the marble floor in three strides. She grabbed Petunia by the pearl necklaces she was wearing—pearls that had belonged to Skye’s mother.
“Where is he?” Skye snarled, twisting the necklace until Petunia choked.
“Basement!” Petunia wheezed. “Boiler room p>
Skye shoved her away. Petunia fell onto the pile of suitcases.
Alistair entered the foyer, gun drawn but lowered. He signaled a guard to watch Petunia.
“Clear the house p>
Skye was already running to the basement door. She threw it open and descended into the darkness. The smell hit her first—mold, rust, and the metallic tang of old blood.
“Daddy?” she called out, her voice trembling.
A single bulb hung from the ceiling. Beneath it, Arthur Sterling was slumped against a copper pipe. His hands were zip-tied so tightly his fingers were purple. His face was gray, his breathing shallow and rattling.
Skye fell to her knees in the dirty water covering the floor. She fumbled for the baton in her hand, useless here.
“Alistair!” she screamed.
𝖭𝖺𝘃𝗶𝘨𝖺𝘁𝗲 𝖾𝘢ѕ𝘪𝗹у 𝘰𝗇 𝗯𝖾𝗹ո𝘰𝗏е𝘭𝗌.co𝗆
Alistair appeared instantly. He saw the zip ties. He holstered his gun and pulled out a serrated tactical knife. With surgical precision, he cut the plastic bonds.
Arthur groaned, slumping forward into Skye’s arms. He was ice-cold.
“He’s hypothermic,” Alistair said, touching Arthur’s neck. “Pulse is weak p>
“We need an ambulance,” Skye sobbed, rubbing Arthur’s hands.
“Too slow,” Alistair said. He tapped his earpiece. “Bring the medic unit to the front door. Now. We have a Code Blue p>
He scooped Arthur up as if the old man weighed nothing. “My convoy has a mobile ICU. We’ll stabilize him on the way p>
They carried him up the stairs.
In the foyer, Petunia was crying loudly, guarded by a stone-faced security operative. Victor had been dragged inside, his face muddy and bleeding.
When Skye saw them, something inside her snapped. She stopped. She looked at her father, unconscious in Alistair’s arms. Then she looked at the family who had done this.
“Put him in the medic van,” Skye told Alistair. Her voice was terrifyingly calm.
“Skye…” Alistair warned.
“Put him in the van,” she repeated.