Daniel stood beside Dominic, speaking softly into his radio. Police were approaching from the main road.
“Put the knife down,” Dominic replied.
“You’ve always enjoyed giving orders.”
Emily’s eyes fixed on Dominic. Blood had dried beneath her nose.
“He said he only wanted the party canceled.”
Victor jerked her closer.
“Be quiet.”
But she was crying now, words spilling through breaths she could barely draw.
“He told me to get Anna upstairs. He said Ethan would get a rash, and you’d postpone signing the papers. I didn’t know. I didn’t know it could kill him.”
Dominic felt the corridor narrow around him.
The trust papers were upstairs on his desk. On Monday, an independent firm would take control of Ethan’s inheritance from his mother. Victor, who had administered it since her death, would have to surrender the accounts.
“You’ve taken money,” Dominic said.
Victor’s mouth tightened.
“Money that was sitting idle.”
“How much?”
“That isn’t the question you should be asking while I’m holding this.”
He pushed the blade closer. Emily made a sound that Dominic would remember long after the night ended.
Daniel touched his arm.
They could wait for trained negotiators. They could contain the corridor. But Emily’s knees were bending, and Victor’s hand was shaking.
Dominic looked at the delivery gate visible through the far window.
“Open it,” he said to Daniel.
Daniel hesitated.
“Open the outer gate. Keep everyone clear of the courtyard.”
Victor smiled, a small, ugly relaxation of his face.
“There. You do understand priorities.”
“Yes,” Dominic said. “A person matters more than catching you this second.”
He placed his phone on the floor and stepped away from it.
“Let her come here. You can see the gate from where you’re standing.”
Victor dragged Emily toward the courtyard exit. At the turn, her shoe caught the edge of a rubber mat.
She stumbled.
He glanced down, shifting the knife away from her throat to haul her upright. Daniel’s guard, already positioned outside the delivery entrance, came through the door.
The next few seconds broke into separate sounds: Emily striking the floor, the knife skidding beneath a shelf, Victor shouting, Daniel calling for medical help.
Dominic reached Emily before he looked at his brother.
She crawled backward from Victor’s pinned arm, sobbing without words.
A silver container rolled out of his jacket and stopped against Dominic’s shoe.
He did not touch it.
When the police entered, Victor was still insisting that everyone had misunderstood.
In the library, Lily sat on Anna’s lap beneath a blanket that covered them both. Ethan sat beside them, close enough that his shoulder touched Anna’s arm.
Nobody had asked Lily another question.
The doctor had explained that Ethan was not showing signs of an allergic reaction. Still, he watched him carefully, his emergency bag open beside the chair.
