Chapter 18 - The Vow of Ruin
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The news of the Ashcroft raid dominated every network, but Nathaniel wasn't watching.
He sat in the dim light of Clare's ICU room. The rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor was the only sound in the sterile silence. She looked so small, wrapped in bandages, tubes helping her breathe.
He gently took her hand, being careful not to disturb the IV lines.
"I failed you," he whispered, a single tear cutting through the dried blood on his cheek. "I promised to protect you, and I failed."
He kissed her knuckles, his jaw tightening until his teeth ached.
"But I promise you this, Clare," he murmured in the dark. "They are going to suffer. All of them."
His phone buzzed. A text from his fixer.
Victoria Bowmont is attempting to flee to Switzerland. Douglas is out on bail. Eleanor is at the Plaza.
Nathaniel stood up, gently placing Clare's hand back on the bed.
He walked out of the hospital, stepping into the freezing night air. He didn't call his driver. He got into a rented black sedan waiting at the curb.
The Ashcroft empire was falling to the FBI, but the law was too slow, too forgiving for what they had done. Nathaniel didn't want justice anymore. He wanted annihilation.
He pulled a cold, heavy pistol from the glove compartment, checking the chamber.
He was going to find Victoria at the private airstrip. He was going to find his mother at the Plaza. And he was going to find his father in whatever hole he was hiding in.
He put the car in drive, merging into the glowing arteries of the city.
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The heir to the Ashcroft dynasty was dead. The monster they had created was finally awake.
To be continued...
