Chapter 2 – Sixty Seconds
Victor stared at the antique telephone as Richard Bennett's voice echoed through the mansion.
"You have exactly sixty seconds."
The line went dead.
For the first time that night, Victor's confidence cracked.
He slowly lowered the receiver and looked toward Emma, whose tiny body trembled beside the wall. Laura was still lying on the marble floor, struggling to breathe, but relief flickered in her exhausted eyes.
Richard had answered.
That alone changed everything.
Victor forced a smile.
"So, your father finally decided to play the hero."
Laura didn't respond.
She knew her father better than anyone.
Richard Bennett never made empty threats.
He acted first.
Twenty miles away, a black armored SUV sped through the rain.
Richard Bennett sat silently in the back seat.
At seventy-one, the silver-haired billionaire looked calm, almost emotionless, but everyone inside the vehicle recognized the warning signs.
His clenched jaw.
His motionless hands.
His eyes.
They had seen that expression only once before—when his wife had died.
Across from him sat his longtime attorney, Daniel Brooks.
"The emergency custody petition is already being filed," Daniel reported while scrolling through his tablet.
Richard nodded once.
"The security team?"
"Six men are heading to the estate."
"The helicopter?"
"Waiting at the private airfield."
Richard looked out the rain-covered window.
"No delays."
"There won't be any."
He reached into his coat pocket and removed a small photograph.
It showed Laura at twelve years old, laughing as she rode on his shoulders during a family picnic.
"I promised your mother," he whispered to himself, "that no one would ever hurt you."
Back at the mansion, Victor grabbed a towel and tossed it toward Laura.
"Stop bleeding all over my floor."
Laura let out a weak laugh.
"My father... will never forgive this."
Victor crouched beside her.
"You still think your father can save you?"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"When the police arrive, they'll hear you slipped on the stairs. Emma was frightened and imagined the rest."
He smiled toward the little girl.
"Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
Emma shook her head.
"No."
Victor's smile disappeared.
"You need to tell the truth."
"I am."
"You'll say your mommy fell."
Emma stepped backward until her shoulders touched the wall.
"You pushed her."
Victor's face darkened.
Laura immediately spoke.
"Emma, don't say another word."
Victor stood slowly.
"So that's how we're doing this."
He pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number.
"Clean-up team," he said when someone answered. "Get here now."
Laura's heart sank.
She knew exactly who they were.
Not cleaners.
Fixers.
People who erased evidence.
People who made witnesses disappear.
Victor hung up and looked at his watch.
"Your father won't get here in time."
A sudden sound interrupted him.
Headlights swept across the front windows.
Then another pair.
Then another.
Victor frowned.
"No..."
The deep rumble of powerful engines filled the driveway.
Not one vehicle.
Several.
Emma ran to the window.
Black SUVs rolled through the front gate one after another, splashing through the rain.
Their headlights illuminated the mansion like daylight.
Men wearing dark suits stepped out in perfect formation.
Each carried an umbrella in one hand and an earpiece in the other.
The lead vehicle stopped directly in front of the entrance.
Its rear door opened.
A polished black cane touched the wet stone first.
Then Richard Bennett stepped into the storm.
He wasn't alone.
Behind him came two attorneys.
Three former federal investigators.
And a county judge holding an emergency protection order.
Richard looked up at the mansion.
His expression never changed.
He adjusted his coat and quietly said,
May you like
"Nobody touches my family again."
Then he walked toward the front door.
