Chapter 13 - The Verdict of Blackwood
Nobody moved.
The two Cook County deputies instinctively backed up until their shoulders hit the wood-paneled walls of the foyer.
They were city cops; they had survived on the streets long enough to recognize a man who had completely crossed the threshold of civil society.
Damian crossed the threshold of his home.
His dark eyes swept the room.
He saw the legal papers in the attorney's hand.
He saw the trembling elderly trustee.
He saw Ava clinging desperately to Natalie’s legs, buried in the cashmere wrap.
And finally, his gaze locked onto his younger brother.
“Damian,” Julian whimpered, raising his uninjured hand in a pathetic, defensive gesture.
“Damian, wait... let’s talk about this. We’re family!”
Damian didn’t speak a single word.
He closed the distance between them in two long strides.
He didn't swing the crowbar.
He simply grabbed Julian by the throat with his left hand, lifting the younger man completely off the marble floor and slamming him backward against the heavy oak pillar supporting the grand staircase.
CRACK.
The wood groaned under the impact.
Julian gasped for air, his feet kicking uselessly in the empty space above the floorboards, his face turning an ugly shade of mottled purple.
“Damian, stop!” Arthur Vance shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
“If you kill him here, in front of officers of the court, you will spend the rest of your life in Stateville Penitentiary!”
Damian didn’t even glance at the trustee.
His fingers tightened around Julian’s windpipe, his knuckles turning ivory white.
“You cut Helena’s brakes,” Damian whispered.
The words were so low, so quiet, that only Julian and Natalie could hear them.
“You killed the mother of my child for three million dollars.”
Julian’s eyes were rolling back into his head, his hands clawing desperately at Damian’s iron wrist.
He was seconds from asphyxiation.
The room held its collective breath.
Natalie looked down at Ava.
The little girl had squeezed her eyes shut, trembling violently, but her small hands had moved from Natalie’s legs to reach out toward her father.
“Daddy,” Ava whispered, her voice carrying through the deadly silence.
“Too loud.”
Damian froze.
The iron muscles in his forearm twitched.
He looked down.
He saw his seven-year-old daughter standing in the center of the grand foyer, holding the smooth wooden ball against her cheek, watching him with wide, terrified blue eyes.
She wasn't terrified of Julian.
She was terrified of what her father was turning into.
Natalie stepped forward, placing a gentle, steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, right over his fresh bandages.
“Damian,” Natalie said softly, her voice an anchor of calm in the violent room.
“Don't give her this memory. Let the law bury him.”
For three agonizing seconds, the fate of every soul in that room hung by a razor’s edge.
Then, Damian exhaled a long, ragged breath.
He released his grip.
Julian collapsed to the marble floor in a pathetic, choking heap, gasping for air, clutching his bruised throat.
Damian let the heavy steel crowbar slip from his fingers.
It struck the marble with a dull, resonant clang.
Damian turned slowly toward the two frozen sheriff’s deputies.
“Deputy Miller,” Damian said, his voice entirely steady, addressing the lead officer by the name on his brass badge.
“Yes, Mr. DeLuca?” the deputy answered, swallowing hard.
“Arrest that man for the aggravated, premeditated murder of Helena DeLuca.”
Damian pointed at the encrypted audio drive sitting on the table.
“The forensic chain of custody, the wiretaps, and the sworn confession of the mechanic are on that terminal.”
Damian stepped closer to the trembling female attorney.
“And if you ever bring another custody petition to my front gate,” Damian whispered into her face, “I will buy the law firm that employs you and turn its partners into janitors at my rail yard.”
The attorney grabbed her briefcase, turned on her heels, and fled through the front doors without looking back.
Arthur Vance lowered his head in shame, leaning heavily on his cane.
“Damian... forgive me. We didn't know.”
“Get out of my house, Arthur,” Damian replied coldly.
“The trust is dissolved. My lawyers will file the paperwork by sunset.”
The two deputies hauled Julian to his feet, snapping steel handcuffs around his wrists with none of the gentleness they had shown earlier.
As they dragged him toward the exit, Julian looked back at his brother, tears streaming down his face.
“Damian! Please! It was Moretti! Moretti forced me!”
Damian didn’t look at him.
May you like
He turned his back on his brother, walking straight toward his daughter.
The heavy front doors slammed shut, cutting off Julian’s pathetic cries forever.
