Chapter 23
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the Texas sky in shades of deep amber and violet, Arthur sat alone in his study.
He poured a glass of vintage bourbon, raising it silently toward the framed family portrait hanging above the marble fireplace.
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed against the heavy wooden front door of the mansion.
Arthur didn't move immediately, listening as Martha the housekeeper opened the door to check the porch.
She returned a moment later carrying a heavy metal box stamped with an unfamiliar federal intelligence seal and a note bearing no signature.
May you like
Arthur opened the box to find a pristine, hand-drawn photograph of Leo walking into his high school yesterday—and a single silver key.
Attached to the key was a chilling handwritten message that made the elderly billionaire's blood run ice cold: "The boy's protection was never yours to keep, Arthur. We are coming to collect our debt."
