Chapter 8 - The Arrogance of Power
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Victor scoffed, running a hand through his styled hair as he paced back and forth across my pristine hardwood floor, looking around my home with casual disdain.
“Spare me the dramatic matriarch routine, Margaret,” Victor sneered, turning back to face me with a patronizing grin. “Look around this old house. It’s lovely, but it belongs to yesterday. The world doesn't run on dusty court rulings and polite tea parties anymore. It runs on power, money, and knowing the right people.”
“Is that so?” I asked calmly, tilting my head slightly.
“Damn right it is,” Victor puffed out his chest, stepping closer to me, attempting to tower over me with his height and physical intimidation. “Chief Miller and I had breakfast this morning. He laughed when I mentioned my wife ran away. He told me that if anyone tries to interfere with my family matters, the local police department will handle it swiftly and quietly. You might have been a big deal in some federal courtroom ten years ago, but out here? You’re just an old woman living alone.”
I let out a soft, low chuckle. It wasn't a warm sound; it was the chilling sound of a predator watching a mouse run directly into a trap.
“You think Chief Miller protects you, Victor?” I asked softly.
His smug expression flickered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a shadow of unease. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
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“It means Chief Miller won't even be answering his own phone by the end of the day,” I replied, stepping forward into his personal space, forcing him to take an involuntary half-step back. “And neither will your offshore bankers, your shipping brokers, or your bribe-taking detectives.”
Victor’s face flushed red with sudden anger. He pointed a shaking finger directly into my face. “Listen to me, you arrogant old witch! If Sophia isn’t packed and standing by my car in two minutes, I’m filing kidnapping charges against you through the local precinct, and I’ll have your entire property seized for harboring a fugitive! Don't test me!”
