Chapter 10 - Custody of the Living
Grayhaven House blazed with light when they returned, every upstairs window lit like a warning.
County officers were finally at the property in greater numbers now, but Victor still had the advantage of familiarity and one hostage no one wanted startled. According to Anton, Victor had entered through the old conservatory door, gone straight upstairs, and locked himself into Damian’s bedroom with Damian and Lila just after Marta stepped out to fetch blankets.
Emily nearly tore through the officers before Sofia caught her arm.
“If you storm that room, he’ll panic,” Sofia said.
“She is my daughter.”
“I know.” Sofia’s own face was stripped raw with urgency. “So think.”
Anton met them in the side hall. “He sent everyone away except Damian and the child. Says if police force the door, he starts shooting.”
Emily pressed both hands over her mouth.
Damian’s bedroom again. The forbidden room turned prison.
“What does he want?” Sofia asked.
Anton looked at Emily’s bag. “The original trust amendment. The ledger. And whatever Damian hid that Victor still doesn’t understand.”
Sofia exhaled sharply. “The envelope.”
Emily pulled it out. The manila seemed absurdly ordinary.
“What’s in it?” Anton asked.
“Damian said only if necessary.”
Anton looked up toward the ceiling. “It is necessary.”
Sofia opened the flap.
Inside were copies of two documents and a short handwritten statement. She scanned them once, then again, stunned.
“What?” Emily demanded.
Sofia handed her the first page.
It was a notarized letter from Damian dated three weeks earlier, revoking Victor’s medical authority and appointing Sofia as temporary healthcare proxy upon proof of incapacity or coercion concerns.
The second page was more explosive: a sworn statement from Dr. Price’s former nurse, taken months earlier, alleging Victor had instructed Price to alter Damian’s medication chart and had referenced “softening him up” before any trusts changed.
At the bottom lay Damian’s note:
If Victor corners me, he will demand power. Deny him family. He cannot bear irrelevance. Use that.
Emily looked at Sofia. “How does that save Lila?”
“It may provoke him into talking,” Sofia said. “And if I have legal proxy, I can demand direct access.”
A tactical officer approached. “We have a line on a phone in the room. We can patch you through.”
Sofia nodded. “Do it.”
Moments later they stood in a downstairs sitting room with the speakerphone live. Emily’s hands shook so badly Anton had to place the receiver in them.
Victor answered on the third ring. “If this is police, hang up.”
“It’s Emily,” she said.
A beat. “Good. That means you value your daughter.”
Emily closed her eyes. “Is she safe?”
“For the moment.”
In the background she heard nothing from Lila—of course nothing. But she imagined her daughter reading faces, reading fear.
Sofia touched Emily’s elbow and mouthed, Keep him talking.
Emily swallowed. “What do you want?”
“The envelope. The trust amendment. The ledger. You bring them upstairs alone.”
“No.”
Victor laughed softly. “Then your child grows up without memory of tonight.”
Emily nearly broke. Sofia took the receiver gently.
“Victor, this is Sofia Reyes. I now hold Damian’s temporary medical proxy under a signed revocation you were not meant to see yet.”
Silence.
Then Victor said, “You’re bluffing.”
“No. And if you shoot anyone in that room, the documents in county custody trigger criminal and civil cascades that erase you. No company, no trusts, no marina, no brother’s legacy. Nothing.”
He inhaled once, sharply. “County custody?”
“Yes. Marrow is compromised. Price is in custody. Anne Holloway is cooperating.” Sofia lied about the last part, but cleanly. “You have one remaining asset, Victor: your ability to walk out of this alive.”
When he spoke again, the coldness had cracked. “You think Damian wins if I surrender? He built me from the same blood.”
Damian’s strained voice came faintly through the line. “No, Father built us. You chose the rest.”
Emily gripped the edge of the table. He sounded exhausted, but lucid.
Victor snapped, “You were always weak for appearances. Philanthropy. Trusts. Reform. As if laundering guilt through charities makes you noble.”
Sofia met Emily’s eyes. Keep him talking.
“You poisoned him because he rejected you,” Sofia said.
Victor barked a laugh. “Rejected me? I carried him. When Anna died, when the unions turned, when the port started asking questions—I carried him. He kept the throne; I did the work.”
Emily frowned. Anna? Sofia’s eyes narrowed too, but neither interrupted.
From upstairs Damian said, “You did the dirt I was trying to stop.”
“You only tried to stop it when you found something prettier to own.” Victor’s voice turned savage. “Those waterfront parcels were ours. Father promised we’d build towers over the whole harbor.”
“He promised you,” Damian said. “He promised me a knife.”
There was movement in the line, a muffled sound, then Victor again. “Enough. Emily brings the documents now or I put a bullet through the mattress beside the child and let your imagination do the rest.”
Emily lunged for the phone. “Don’t you touch her!”
Victor’s voice dropped to an intimate, lethal calm. “Then come upstairs.”
The line went dead.
The room held its breath.
Emily turned to Sofia. “I’m going.”
Anton said, “I go with you.”
“No.” Emily looked at the tactical officer. “If he sees anyone else, he panics. But you position outside that door.”
Sofia gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. Do not hand over everything at once. Force him to keep talking. If you get a chance, use Lila’s sight line. She reads rooms better than adults.”
Emily nodded numbly.
May you like
She tucked the envelope inside her cardigan, left the ledger downstairs, and took only copies of the trust papers. As she reached the stairs, Lila’s white rabbit lay on the banister where Marta must have dropped it in panic. Emily picked it up and held it to her chest for one second like a promise.
Then she climbed toward the room where it had all begun, praying that this time she would get her daughter out.
